That Damn Girl
by MissyMaestro
Summary: A ZA Bethyl fanfic by a hardcore Caryl shipper. (How'd that happen? Because that damn girl gets under your skin.) Beth and Daryl meet before the outbreak and team up with Merle to survive.
1. Chapter 1

Beth groaned in annoyance and kicked at her tire. It was the third time that month it'd gone flat, although there wasn't a hole to be found. She picked up her phone and dialed her sister. "Sorry Mags," she lamented. "I'm not going to be able to make it back to the farm for the weekend. I've got a flat. Yeah, again. I'm gonna air it up and limp it somewhere. Yeah, love you, bye." Beth hung up and felt her stomach drop when she saw the time on her phone: 5:03 PM.

"OH, you're open! Thank God! Can you help me?" Beth begged as she pushed open the front office door at a mechanic shop right around the corner from her house.

A man behind the counter scowled at her. "Just closed." He looked her up and down before turning back to what he was doing.

"Please, I just need a new tire. I moved to town last weekend for work and I don't know anyone." Beth leaned on the counter and tried to work her charms. "A southern gentleman like you will help a lady out, won't you?"

"Come back Monday. Closed."

Beth frowned and batted her eyes. "I bet it wouldn't take a strong man like you very long to get that tire off. I don't have a spare, and I wouldn't know how to put it on, anyway. My brothers up near Atlanta always did it for me. That's where I _was_ going this weekend," she explained, pouring on the sadness. "Now I'm spending the weekend alone in a new town and I can't even get anywhere because of the tire."

The man gave her a hard stare, then sighed in annoyance when she didn't blink. "Fine," he grumbled.

"Thank you, really, thank you!" Beth cried. "I'm Beth. Mine's the-"

"Only car out front because I'm closed." The man stalked out to the parking lot and spotted the tire. "What, you hit a nail or somethin'?"

"Nope, it's just been doing that, and now I can't get it to keep air. I didn't catch your name, by the way."

"Didn't say it," the man continued in a surly tone. He laid on his back and crawled under the car. "Naw, you've got a gash in this tire. Didn't start out as deep, but got worse the more you drove on it. That's why it's losing air more now." He crawled back out. "Trashed. Gonna have to get a new one." He motioned at her to hand him something, and she stared at him blankly. " _Keys,"_ he growled.

"Oh," Beth exclaimed in embarrassment. She opened her purse and shuffled things around while she searched for them. "I just had them. Didn't I just have them?" She giggled nervously. Men usually did nice things for her, but she couldn't tell if the mechanic was falling for her damsel in distress act.

"C'mon, girl, ain' got all day." The man continued to scowl at her until she pulled out the keys and quickly pressed them into his hand.

"I'll go wait inside, then, I guess-" Beth began.

"No way," the man grunted as he pushed her seat back and got in the car. "Come in the garage. It's your lucky day. You're gonna learn how to change a tire."

"I, what?" Beth asked in surprise.

"Ain' always gonna be someone stayin' past hours to do it for you." He backed the car into the garage.

"What's your name?" Beth called as she followed him.

"Daryl."

"Daryl. It's nice to meet you, and thank you again. Really."

Daryl shrugged it off and reached for a jack. "Get down here so's you can see," he said gruffly. "Jack goes here. Handle goes in here," he explained, pointing at the tool. "Now you jack it up so you can get the tire off. Here, you do it."

Beth bit her lip. "But I just got this skirt for work-" One look from Daryl shut her up. "Um, okay. Sure." She got down on her knees and pressed down on the handle and grunted. "This is a lot harder than it looks." She stopped and massaged the palm of her hand. "Oh, ouch." She glanced at Daryl, hoping he'd take over.

"Don't give me them big blue eyes, girl. It's all you." Daryl got up and retrieved a tool.

Beth studied the mechanic and tried to determine whether he was being nice to her or not. Sure, he'd stayed, but he was also being rude. _What was his end game?_

"Don't look like it's jacked up any further. Can't change a tire like that," Daryl drawled when he returned.

"I don't do this every day," Beth replied. "Give me a minute." She continued to ratchet the jack up until Daryl nodded and said, "Good." He removed the old tire and rolled a new one over. "You saw how I took the old one off?"

Beth nodded.

"Good. Put the new one one."

Beth stared at Daryl like he was crazy. "I, what? You should have let me take the old one off. I don't want to be driving down the road and have it fall off!"

"Put it on," Daryl repeated. The look on his face clearly stated that he regretted staying late to help the girl.

Beth struggled with the tire, but eventually got it on and got the lugnuts tightened.

"That's all there is to it," Daryl said.

"Really? That's it? Wow," Beth giggled. "I changed a tire!" She beamed proudly. "You're a good teacher."

Daryl nodded and Beth swore she could see a grin tugging at his lips. "C'mon. I'll get you rung up," he said.

Beth smirked and followed him to the office. She hadn't gotten any grease on her work clothes, and she'd not only secured new sponsorships at work, but learned how to change her own tire. It had been a successful Friday.

In the office, Daryl slid the bill across to her. "Here you go."

Beth reached out to hand her card over, but frowned when she saw the total. "This can't be right."

"It's right. Let me run your card." Daryl reached out, then narrowed his eyes when she snatched her hand back.

"No, this can't be right," Beth said. "There's no labor on here, and I might be young, but I know a new tire's a lot more than that." She looked up at the man and raised an eyebrow.

"You did the labor."

"Well, what about the tire? Let me pay full price."

Daryl shrugged. "You're new in town."

"You stayed late," Beth argued. "Let me pay you!" She tapped her high heel on the ground and set her face in a steely stare.

"There's the bill," Daryl said. "I don't wanna stay here all night. Pay up."

Beth frowned, then reluctantly handed over her card. "All right. Are you sure? Won't your boss get mad?"

"I own this place with my brother," Daryl replied as he ran her card. "He ain't here, so he ain't got no say." He handed her a receipt to sign.

"Okay. Then," Beth thought for a moment. "Let me take you for a drink. You could show me the good spots in town."

Daryl studied the girl. She couldn't be older than 25, but she was easy on the eyes. He hadn't been out with anyone in a while, but maybe that's what he neeed to pull him out of his funk. Besides, Daryl could tell she wasn't going to take no for an answer. He sighed again and threw his rag on the counter. "All right. I'll get cleaned up. You know where McCarthy's is?"

Beth thought a moment. "A block down? The one with the big green door?"

"Yup."

"That's right by my house! Perfect." Beth bounced toward the door, then turned just in time to see Daryl's eyes snap back up to her face. "What time?"

"Seven."

Beth flashed a smile. "Perfect. I'll see you at seven at McCarthy's, Daryl."


	2. Drinks

"Black or red?" Beth asked her sister over Skype. She held up a black mini dress, then a red one. "Red? Black. Red. Definitely black. Wait. Red, maybe."

Maggie, Beth's older sister, wrinkled her nose from the other side of the tablet. "I though you were just meeting this guy for drinks. How old did you say he was?"

"I _am_ just meeting him for drinks." She smiled coyly. "He must like me. He was pretty cute."

"He probably has a wife," Maggie replied flatly.

"Oh, stop. He doesn't have a ring."

"Mechanics don't wear them. Sounds like a slimeball to me." Maggie made a face. "Don't go. You can still make it back here and spend the weekend with us."

"He was so nice to stay and help me with the tire and charge me next to nothing." Beth frowned into the ipad. "Why are you being so mean? I'll come up next weekend."

"You're so naive. I want you to be careful down there by yourself. Guys don't just do nice stuff for women, Beth. He's lookin' to get somethin', you mark my words."

"Well, I've gotta go, bye!" Beth clicked out of Skype and laid down the tablet with a sigh. "Naive. Pfft."

***

Daryl nearly tripped over his boots when he saw the woman at the bar. A blonde was leaning over, chatting with the bartender, her long legs and ass looking perfect in those tight jeans. A sparkly black tank top hung from her lean frame and racy red bra strap peeked out. When she turned and flashed a smile his way, he couldn't believe it.

"Daryl! Hi. I'm glad you actually came. I was worried you were going to blow me off." Beth handed him a bottle of beer and sat down in a booth. "So tell me about this place. I thought I lived near a small town back home, but _this_ is a small town."

"It's fine," Daryl replied. He took a drink of beer and tried to keep eye contact. Was this the same girl from the shop earlier? Her cleavage was impressive and her face even looked different. Makeup, he concluded.

"Not much of a talker, huh?" Beth took a long drink. "I'm a chatty drunk, so no worries. I can do the talking for you." She laughed.

"I thought this was just _a_ drink?" Daryl asked, emphasizing the 'a'. "Ain't your boyfriend waiting for you somewhere? Car's fixed. Go meet him in Atlanta or whever you said you were going."

Beth smiled. _Aha. He is interested!_ she thought. "I'm actually as single as they come. No boyfriend, no suitors. Just little old me." She took a drink and licked her lips seductively. "I understand if you can't stay out. You must have a wife to get home to."

Daryl finished his beer. "Naw."

"Well, then I think we need another round." Beth hopped up and sashayed to the bar, making sure to swing her hips appropriately.

Across the bar, the door swung open, letting light and a group of rough-looking men spill in. Their ringleader strolled in and surveyed the quiet bar. Before his eyes fell on Beth, she grabbed her drinks and practically dove back into her booth. She sucked in a breath and couldn't believe her luck.

"Problem?" Daryl raised an eyebrow and gave her a look of confusion.

"Some guy I knew from Atlanta just walked in. He's a creep. Hide me." Beth sank lower in her seat.

"Hey! Lookee who it is, boys!"

Beth cringed and moaned, "Get out of here, Merle," at the same time Daryl turned, nodfed, and said, "Sup?" in greeting. The pair turned and gaped at each other. "You know Merle?" they asked each other in unison.

Merle strolled over with a cocky grin on his face. "I'll catch up with you boys," he called to his gang as they settled at the bar. "I was just sayin' hey to my baby brother, but look at you, girl!" Merle leaned on their table and beamed at the pair. "How the hell did you wind up in a place like this?" Turning to Daryl, he asked, "And how the hell did you get this girl to go out with you? I've been trying damn near three years and she won't give me so much as a smile." He licked his teeth and studied Beth. "Damn, missy. Still lookin' mighty fine. Mmm!"

Daryl stared at Merle in disbelief and frustration. _How the hell does he know every god damn woman in Georgia?_

"Oh, bro, don't give me that face. You must not know what your woman here _does!"_ Merle clapped his hands and laughed. "You're in for a surprise, baby bro."

Beth rolled her eyes. "It's really hard to believe that you're related to a decent human being, Merle."

"Ooh-hoo!" Merle laughed. "Hard to believe my character is being judged by the likes of a dancing girl." He winked at Daryl. "Nice grab. Which, by the way, I'd mind your hands, boy. She sure don't like having her ass squeezed."

Daryl blinked a few times and let the words sink in. "What? She ain' no stripper. Ain' no way. Look at her." Beth stared indignantly back at him as he looked her over. She'd trotted into his shop in a skirt suit and heels, but now her dark eye makeup and black nails made him curious.

"I'm not a stripper and he knows that," Beth huffed. "I did get him thrown out multiple times for being a creep, though. I _should_ have gotten him arrested."

"I ain't surprised." Daryl rolled his eyes at Merle. "But if you're not-"

"Blackjack dealer on weekends at a club up near Atlanta," Beth answered quickly. "I needed the money for school. I did it on the down low. No one knows." She felt her cheeks grow warm. "I had hoped to put that behind me." She glared at Merle and continued, "but it looks like your past really does haunt you."

"Still fiesty as I remember. You enjoy yourself, Darylina." Merle turned back to the bar, then paused. "But first you gotta tell me: how'd you get her to come out with you? What trick didn't I try?"

Daryl smirked and sat back. "I didn't need a trick." He looked at Beth with a new interest. As she gave him a shy smile, he turned back to Merle and shrugged. "She asked me."

***

Beth hiccuped and giggled. Merle had sent over a few rounds of shots for her and Daryl throughout the night, and she'd accepted all of them. _No better way to forget that I'll be on my own the rest of the weekend,_ Beth thought happily as she winced at a tequila shot. "Oof," she breathed. "No more of those." She fanned herself.

"Do I need to cut you off?" Daryl slammed his shot back and knocked the glass on the table. He felt a little buzzed himself, and was surprised that the girl wasn't on her ass. She hadn't lied – Beth was a happy, chatty drunk. As annoying as she was at times, the next second she was entertaining, and as much as he'd sworn to himself he was just coming for a beer, Daryl sat through her white whines and sorority stories and couldn't get himself to leave.

"Maybe. You can try to cut me off." Beth hiccuped again and giggled. "I really wasn't a stripper. I promise. Like, I pinkie promise." She took a drink of the fruity cocktail she'd switched over to, then smacked her lips. "I feel like you don't believe me."

Daryl chuckled. "I believe you. Merle's full of shit. Sorry about him."

"That doesn't mean I didn't work at a strip club," Beth declared. "I did, and I did have a uniform." She held up her finger as she spoke. "It was a black bra and black hot pants. I did look pretty good." She hiccuped and giggled more. "In case you were wondering. Were you wondering? You were totally wondering, right?" She puckered her lips, then smiled. "My sister always tells me I'm the pretty one in the family because I'm a blonde."

"You'll be mad at me no matter which way I respond to that," Daryl replied. "I think you're done." He reached over and snatched her drink. He tossed the little umbrella on the table before draining it.

"Heyyyyy," Beth whined. "I'm fine. I was just going to finish that one. One more. I swear."

"You're done," Daryl said. "Sorry."

"But," Beth started.

"You didn't drive here, did you?"

Beth giggled and kicked her leg up onto his side of the booth. "In these shoes? I sure didn't walk!"

Daryl raised an eyebrow at her hooker heels. "Okay, well, I don't think you can ride on my bike like this. I'll walk you home. You can get your car in the morning. Deal?"

Beth nodded.

"Good," Daryl said in relief. He'd been expecting a fight. "Gimme your keys."

Beth frowned. "No."

"Keys now." When Beth shook her head and crossed her arms, Daryl snatched her purse from the table and dug through it until he found the keys. "I'll drop these off in the morning. I'm going out of town, but they'll be in your mailbox by the time you wake up. I know how drunk girls work. You'd come back and get your car the second I leave."

"Nuh-uh," Beth giggled. She teetered to her feet and reached for her purse. "I'll cash out, then, since you won't drink with me anymore."

"Naw, I've got it," Daryl said, but she reached the bar more quickly than he'd expected she could in those shoes. She slammed her card down and paid for their drinks and turned back to smirk at him. "I told you, I owe you for the tire!"

Merle, who was sitting nearby, raised an eyebrow. "You giving out the hot chick discount now, bro?"

Daryl blushed. "Shut up, Merle."

"Hey, nothin' wrong with that. Just a little hypocritical you always got hot at me for doin' it. Now you see! One favor deserves another." He winked. "Well done."

"Shut up, Merle," Beth echoed, flipping her hair in his direction and storming off. She grabbed Daryl's arm for support and giggled when he stiffened at her touch. She turned back to Merle and stuck out her tongue. "If you were nicer like your brother, maybe girls would go out with you." She turned and pecked Daryl on the cheek. "Maybe even _more_ than nice."

Merle and his buddies guffawed as Daryl quickly turned and dragged Beth from the bar. "What the hell's that about?" he asked.

Beth giggled. "I can't believe you're related! He was so creepy to me. Like, the creepiest old man creepy." She giggled, and paused to brace herself on a fence. "Whoa."

"Take them damn shoes off," Daryl said. "If you break your ankle, I ain' gonna have you be mad at me about it."

Beth bent down to unbuckle her heel, but toppled over and landed on her ass on the sidewalk. She giggled and covered her face in her hands. "Oh, my gosh. Too many drinks."

"Clearly," Daryl grumbled. When they reached her door a few minutes later, Daryl unlocked her front door and put her keys back in his pocket. "Mailbox. Tomorrow morning."

Beth narrowed her eyes at him. "Why you being so nice to me?"

"I ain' bein' nice. Just bein' decent. Now go to bed."

Beth lingered at the doorstep, drunkenly hoping that he was going to kiss her. When Daryl instead turned and stalked off, she called after him, "Good night. Thank you. Really – thanks. For everything." She stepped inside and locked the door before peeking out the window and seeing that Daryl was looking back with a smile on his face.


	3. Hiss

The Georgia sun beat down mercilessly and sweat dripped down Beth's neck as she dug out what would be her new garden plot in her backyard after work on Monday. Earbuds blasted girl-power anthems as she dug up the area shovelful by shovelful. Her Shiba Inu dog Yoshi was curled up on the deck behind her. Things were looking good, but she had about another hour of work to do. As she struck out with the shovel, she let out a squack. A rattlesnake was coiled up and shaking its tail at her. Beth stumbled backward and caught herself before landing on her ass.

"Shit," she hissed, holding the shovel and readying to strike. The snaked continued to rattle. Not taking her eyes off of it, Beth felt her pockets for her cell phone. When she found her pockets empty and remembered her phone was inside, she swore again. She rose the shovel to kill the snake, then shrieked and jumped away when the snake struck out first. "Fuck!" the blonde cried, glancing over her shoulder and groaning when Yoshi trotted over to see what the commotion was about. "Back, no! No, Yoshi!" she yelled. The snake struck out again, narrowly missing her boot. Beth shrieked, dropped the shovel, and hightailed it, snagging Yoshi's collar and dragging him with her.

Once safe inside, Beth glanced outside and scowled. She had never let a snake keep her from her chores on the farm, so what was so different about now? _I'm alone,_ she thought bitterly. _I never did any of the dirty work myself._ Still, she pouted and stared out the window. Yoshi pawed at the door, but she shook her head. "Sorry, bud. I want to go back out, too." Instead, Beth sat and wished she had the nerve.

***

Beth left the hospital marketing office where she worked at noon on Tuesday and drove home for a quick lunch and to let Yoshi out. She parked her Jeep in the driveway and strolled up to the front door, digging through her purse for her keys. A rattling caught her attention. The snake was back, and had been sunning itself on her front walk. It coiled up quickly and watched her every move.

"You're shitting me," Beth said dryly, staring at the snake. "All right. Fine. It's over." She stomped around to the back of her house, taking care not to lose a heel in the grass. When she returned with the shovel, the snake was waiting for her. Beth marched forward, raised the shovel up and just like the last night, screamed when the snake struck out.

" _You motherfucker!"_ Beth hissed back as the snake hissed at her. She turned to go around to the back door, but remembered there was no key for the locked sliding glass door. A yip at the front window caught her attention. Yoshi was wagging his tail and jumping up and down. "Oh, Yoshi! I'm coming, baby," Beth cried. Frowning, she glanced around. Her neighbors were either elderly or at work, and that left no one around to jump in and save the day. _Except the mechanics,_ she thought to herself. "I _must_ be desperate," she grumbled at the snake. With a sigh, Beth got back in her car and stopped around the block.

Daryl looked up just in time to see Beth storm into the garage and call, "Hey. Are one of you guys here? I'll take either of you."

"Wouldn' say that too loud. Merle's in the front office and I'm sure he'd take ya up on that." Daryl smirked. A worried look crossed his face when Beth didn't crack a smile. "Why you here? Tire's all right, ain' it?"

Beth nodded. "Yeah, tire's fine. Jeep's fine. I just-" she trailed off and realized how stupid she was going to sound.

"Ya need something?" Daryl asked, wiping off his hands and hanging the rag on the motorcycle he was working on. He wore a look of concern on his face.

Sighing, Beth nodded. "I feel so stupid, but I was out in my garden last night and had my headphones in, so I couldn't hear anything, which was probably really dumb, now that I think about it, and I heard this – well, I didn't hear it, but I saw it -" Beth caught Daryl's expression and stopped talking. "Oh. Anyway, there's a rattler hangin' round my house and I can't kill it. It's too aggressive. I can't get close enough. I _tried,"_ Beth added firmly. "I did."

Daryl stared at her. "Okay?"

Beth blinked. At home, if she'd have mentioned a snake, her daddy, brothers, or one of the farmhands would have jumped and run for the shovel for her. "It's gigantic. I'm not exaggerating."

"You came down here to tell me there's a snake in your yard."

"Yes."

"So?"

Beth huffed and crossed her arms. "So will you do something about it for me? I went home to let my dog out, but I can't because of the snake! You're the only one I know here. You and Merle," she added. "I'm glad you were here, though. I don't want him to know where I live."

"You," Daryl started, then paused. "You want me to leave work, go to your house, and kill a snake for you." He cocked his head. "That right?"

Beth nodded. "Yes! Thank you."

"Didn't say yes," Daryl grumbled. "We're busy today. Everyone waits for the beginning of the week to have their cars worked on – they don't barge in at five o'clock Friday." He gave her a smirk.

"Come on. It was in my back yard last night, and now it's parked in front of my front door. I can't even get in my house." She stared at the mechanic expectantly and didn't blink. "Daryl, my dog. Please?"

Daryl let out a growl of annoyance and called into the office, "Merle. I'll be back in ten."

***

"Oh my god, look. It's still there. It's waiting for me. That stupid thing knows I was coming back." Beth peeked out from behind Daryl as he marched up to the snake.

He plucked her shovel out of the ground and looked back at the girl. "I ain' your boyfriend. You need to find someone else to do this shit for you." He turned back to the snake.

" _Careful,"_ Beth hissed.

Daryl turned to scowl at her just as the snake lunged out and hit the back of the shovel.

" _I told you to be careful!"_ Beth shrieked. "Oh my god, pay attention!"

Inside the house, Yoshi started howling and scratching at the door.

"Yoshi! No!" Beth called. "I just painted the door!" She put her hands over her eyes. "I literally can't even right now!"

"Jesus," Daryl grumbled, quickly striking the snake just behind the head.

Beth's stomach turned as the snake's body writhed and the mouth opened and closed a few times. With a metallic scrape, Daryl decapitated the rattler. "There you go," he said, handing her the shovel. "Step 'round it. They can still bite for a while."

" _What?"_ Beth shrieked, chasing Daryl back down the walk. "You can't just leave it there. Oh, my god. What do I do with it? They're poison!"

"It ain' gonna come back to life. Do whatever you came home to do. I'm going back to work. Leave the body somewhere. I'll skin it later."

" _What?"_ Beth exclaimed. "What? Just, what?"

"What do you want, girl?" Daryl snapped. "Those skins go for a lot. I'm going back to the shop – can't take it right now. I'll swing by after work."

"Oh," Beth said, suddenly smiling. "I get it."

"I ain't coming by to see you," he corrected her quickly. "You'll have me doing more work for you." He gave her a scowl for good measure.

"I'm sorry," Beth quickly said, standing next to him as he got on his motorcycle. "Thank you. Really. Let me do something for you. Again." She giggled nervously. "I swear I'm not useless. I'm really good at my job," she offered.

Daryl kicked the bike to life and gave her a look that said he didn't believe her.

"When you come by, stay for dinner! I've got a rack of ribs in the crock pot. Plus, I baked a cobbler last night. I can't eat it by myself." She batted her eyes. "I owe you." She was surprised when Daryl's face lit up.

"Really?" he asked.

Beth nodded. "Yeah! Really. I'm a pretty good cook, too."

Daryl nodded. "All right. I'll be by, then."

As soon as he had turned the corner, Beth sprinted inside to make the cobbler she'd lied about having.

***

"Sure beats what Merle or I can come up with," Daryl said through a mouthful of meat. "'s good. Real good." He swallowed and immediately tore into another rib.

"Thank you," Beth giggled. She tried to saw meat off of the bone with her knife and fork as to keep her face sauce-free, but gave up and just picked it up. "So you guys live together?"

"Yeah," Daryl replied. "No wives. No kids. Saves a payment." He shrugged and licked his fingers. "S'fine."

Beth nodded. "So do you like, have to check in? Did you tell him you were coming over?"

Daryl shook his head. "Ain't my babysitter. I do what I want." He sucked a bone clean and grinned when Yoshi whined from next to him.

"Yoshi," Beth scolded. "Get out of here. Don't bother him."

"Naw," Daryl replied, handing the dog the bone. "He's fine. Cute dog."

"Ooh," Beth squeaked. "I don't think he should have that."

"He's fine," Daryl replied. He wiped sauce from his face and sat back. "That's really good. Thanks."

Beth finished her half of the rack and brought out the cobbler. "Peach. I hope that works for you."

"'course. This is Georgia." Daryl took the plate she offered him and his mouth watered. "You always cook stuff like this for yourself?"

Beth shook her head. "Nope, just had a craving for it. It's too much work to cook everything for just me, so I eat a lot of sandwiches."

"Yeah, same. Frozen pizza." Daryl all but inhaled the cobbler and scooped out seconds. "This is good, too," he said through the last bite of his first serving. "You sure you worked in a strip club? Not a restaurant, or some bakery or somethin'?"

"I'm flattered. No one's ever been so kind about my food. Maybe we can work something out, like dinner on Tuesdays or something." Beth giggled. "And drinks on Fridays!"

Daryl grinned. "Yeah?"

"For a price," Beth quickly added. She smiled slyly. "Oh, yes. I'll make you that deal, Daryl Dixon, but for a price."

The smirk fell away. "What's that?"

"If you'll keep helping me with stuff. If you couldn't tell, I'm not the handiest girl in the world." Beth scooped another glob of cobbler onto his plate. "I get stuff done and you get fed. Seems like a win-win to me." She sat back and watched as he dug in.

Daryl set his fork down and stuck out his hand. "Deal."


	4. Beth Greene is Typing

**Hey, muffins. Thanks for reading. Just noticed that FanFic is eating my line breaks- sorry if the story seems to just jump from one place to another place and time. Will try to remedy that!**

"What're you in such a rush for?" Merle grumbled as Daryl swapped out a motorcycle part at record speed. "Ah, let me guess, dinner night." He snorted. "You're sure domesticated. What're you fixing for her tonight?"

"Nothing," Daryl replied. "But I'm gonna trim the big tree out front, though. One storm and this one limb's gonna go right through hed bedroom window." He wiped his hands and examined his work. "Done."

Merle let the hood of the SUV he'd been working on drop. "She's turning you into a bitch. Listen to you, talkin' like it matters to you what's wrong with her house. I'm tell you: that broad is playing you like a banjo, baby bro."

"You're jealous," Daryl replied with a cocky smirk. "She told me some of the lines you tried to use on her. And you say you're the pro," he snickered.

It had been a month since Daryl and Beth had struck the work-for-dinner deal. So far Beth's vertical blinds had been installed (as she supervised), her heavy paintings hung and leveled (as she repeatedly changed her mind as to where they should go), lawn mower tuned up and lawn mowed (while she sat on the front step watching him and painting her nails), and smoke alarms installed (while she cried loudly into the phone as she talked about some dumb reality show contestant's break-up with her sister). In return, Daryl had enjoyed lasagna with garlic bread, steak with biscuits, fried chicken with homemade gravy, burritos with homemade salsa, and enough desserts that he noticed a little flab on his abs. The girl was a damn good cook, but some days he wanted to shake her and ask why she didn't know how to do anything around the house. He'd intended to teach her about tools and basic home care tips, but her interest level was zero and she always ended up talking his ear off about girly stuff he couldn't relate to.

Merle sighed and stared at his brother. "Unless you fuck her and run right home every night, it don't seem like you're getting anything out of the arrangement. Seems like you're being taken advantage of." He shrugged. "I'm just saying if I was bending over backwards to fix her new house, she'd better be bending any which way I please. I'd be looking for some of that sweet-"

"Hello-oo, boys!" Beth's voice floated from the front of the garage and her heels clicked toward them.

"Ass," Merle finished, completely unabashed. He pointed at Daryl with his wrench. "Better not see you at home tonight. I want to see you walkin in here with that J.B.F. hair."

"Whatever." Daryl strolled to meet Beth. "What're you doin' here?"

"It's so nice out I decided to walk to work today. You're on my way." She smiled and shrugged. "Need a few minutes to wrap up?"

"Naw." Daryl pulled off his shirt and grabbed a clean one from his bike side bag.

Beth snuck a look at his abs as he pulled the shirt over his head. She sucked in a breath, pleasantly surprised at what she saw.

"C'mon, we'll ride over." Daryl swung a leg over his bike.

"Oh," Beth said nervously. "I don't think so." She shook her head for good measure.

"What, you scared?"

Beth bit her lip. "I don't have a helmet. What if I fall off?"

"That's why you press yourself up against him real tight and make sure you've got a grip, a real firm one, right on his balls," Merle answered as he walked by.

"Like I'd listen to you," Beth sneered. She paused. "Wait. Was that a-?"

"Yeah. Dick," Daryl grumbled. "But he's sort of right. Just hold on to me. It's a block. I ain' gonna kill ya. Promise."

Beth looked at the bike. "How...?"

Daryl tapped the foot peg. "Step here. Hold my shoulder, then swing over."

Beth danced on the spot, then gave in. "All right. Fine." She stepped up onto the peg, swung her leg up and over, and squeaked when her heel slipped on the peg. She lost her balance and she fell face-first into Daryl's back. "Ouch," she cried, nevertheless landing on the seat. She held her nose. "I think I broke my face on your shoulder blade." She wiped blood away and gingerly felt the bone. It wasn't broken, but it sure hurt.

Merle strolled back by and pushed a handkerchief into her hand. "Your girl's a wreck, bro. Maybe I'm glad she played hard to get with me."

Daryl looked back. "Ya'al'righ?"

Beth pinched her nose off. "I didn't play hard to get. I played can't get," she argued in a nasal drone.

The brothers rolled their eyes at each other, and Merle laughed aloud.

"Are you making fun of me?" Beth asked, pulling the bloody rag away. "I'll wash this for you, by the way."

Merle waved a hand at her. "Keep it. You can pay me back sometime. Say, why don' you just spread some of that Georgia hospitality my way some time?" Beth opened her mouth to snap at him, but he held up a hand. "I'm talkin' 'bout the cookin'. I can cook a mean steak, but I can't do none of that bakin' shit."

"Oh," Beth quickly responded. "Yeah. Sure."

"Besides," Merle called over the rumble of the bike pipes as Daryl backed out of the garage, "I don't want that 'kerchief back. You never know what kind of diseases you dancing girls are rife with."

" _I was a blackjack dealer!"_ Beth yelled as the bike rolled away. She stuck her tongue out at Merle as Daryl pulled into the street. She felt herself slide toward the back of the seat, then squeaked and pulled herself closer to Daryl.

"I said hold on," he laughed over his shoulder.

"Geeze!" Beth squeaked. "Slow down!"

"I'm only goin' twenty!"

Beth squeezed her eyes shut. Feeling the open air on her face was half exhilarating, yet felt half death-defying. As the bike slowed to turn, Beth noticed Daryl leaning. She did the same. Sensing her weight shift way too much, Daryl swore and immediately knew the bike was going down. He hadn't counted on her throwing her body completely to the side. " _Don't lean!"_ He called, desperately trying to keep the bike up by pulling out of the turn. It was too late. The foot pegs caught on the ground and with a metallic scraping sound, the bike skidded onto its side. Beth shrieked and let go, rolling off onto the pavement. Daryl let go of the handlebars and felt a wave of anger roll over him. Why hadn't he told her to let him handle turns?When the bike came to a halt, he flipped the ignition switch and lay his head back on the pavement. "Damn it."

Beth wiggled her fingers, then her toes. She caught her breath and sat up. When she was sure she hadn't injured herself, she glanced over to Daryl, who was pulling his leg out from under the bike. "Oh, my god. Are you okay? Are you hurt?" She crawled over to him on her hands and knees, not caring when she felt the knee of her dress slacks snag and tear. "Daryl. Oh my god. Your leg. Is it broken?"

"Fine," Daryl grunted. He looked her over. "You?"

"I'm okay," Beth replied shakily. "Oh my god. I'm sorry. I didn't know-"

"Ain' your fault," Daryl sighed. "Should have told you." He stood and shook his leg. It stung, but would be okay. They'd been going slow enough that the drop hadn't done much but scratch the paint and scuff up the pegs. He grunted as he tipped the bike back up.

"Really, your leg. Are you okay?" Beth frowned at the scuff marks on Daryl's pant leg.

"Had worse before," he replied.

"Maybe we walk the rest of the way. It's only three houses," Beth suggested nervously. She blushed and scrunched her lips to one side, clearly biting at the inside of her lip anxiously. "I'm really sorry." She studied his leg and noticed blood droplets leaking through the tear at the knee. "Oh, Daryl! You're bleeding. I'll take a look at that when we get inside. I've got some cleaner and bandages. I had to take a nursing class as part of my training at the hospital, can you believe that?" She shrugged. "I guess it's coming in handy. You'll just have to take your jeans off."

Daryl paused and gave her a side-eyed glance. "What, now?"

"I work at a hospital. It's practically my duty to make sure you don't have junk in your leg. It's my fault, after all." Beth pulled her keys from her bag and unlocked her front door. "I'll grab the kit- just take your pants off and try not to bleed on my carpet!"

As she scurried down the hallway, Daryl stared at her in utter disbelief. First the damn girl made him dump his bike, then she demanded he get undressed and wait for her. He smiled in spite of himself and kicked off his jeans. They chatted the entire time she cleaned dirt out of his knee, and laughed about the whole thing over dinner afterward. 

* * *

Thursday afternoon found Daryl stared at his phone, struggling to find a reason to message Beth. Through the week she would occasionally send him dumb pictures or random thoughts or pictures of food she wanted to know if he'd eat (they answer was always yes), but she'd been quiet since dumping his bike and seeing him sans pants on Tuesday.

"Wanna get off your damn phone and help me for a minute?" Merle snarled. "I've got bowlin' league tonight. I ain't waiting around for the likes of you to keep Face-tweeting, or whatever dumb shit it is you do." He kicked at a tire on a sedan. "Damn thing's rusted on."

Daryl slid his phone back into his pocket. "Yup." He helped Merle get the tire off, then rolled the new one over. "Ain' this Mrs. Peters's car? What'd she do this time?"

"Just leaky. One of the recall batch. Nothing in particular." Merle picked up the old one and set it in a stack against the wall.

"Same thing happened to Beth's tire, but it had a gash on the inner wall."

Merle cocked his head to the side and rolled his eyes. "Here we go again."

"I'm just sayin'," Daryl grumbled, suddenly painfully aware that this was the third time this morning he'd brought her up.

"That why you're on your phone all the time? Instagramming her?"

"I ain't even." Daryl felt his neck get hot. "I'm just lookin' at stuff."

"That why you made one of them Face-accounts? Gotta look at little Bethy's pics and blogs?" Merle nodded. "Baby bro, get that shit on lock down. She likes you." He wiped his hands off and strolled over. "Just fuck her already. You know how chicks get after you fuck 'em. You won't have to wonder if she's out with other guys because she'll be up your ass 24/7."

"Naw, she ain't stupid. Pretty young girl like that ain' gonna mix up with the likes of me." He reached for his phone out of habit, and Merle snatched it out of his hand.

"Aha!" Merle exclaimed. "Look. Beth Greene, here she is, right on the screen for me already." Merle held the phone out of Daryl's grasp. "Ya'll still goin' out for drinks tomorrow?" he taunted.

"Course. It's Friday," Daryl replied, crossing his arms. "Give me the phone, jackass. You've seen enough of her. You don' need to go through her profile."

Merle tapped something quickly, then handed the phone back. "You got it, bro. Didn't look at a single picture."

Daryl groaned when he saw the message Merle had sent Beth from his account: _Wear_ _something sexy_ _for me_ _tomorrow night._ "Dick! Now she'll think I'm some sort of creep." He began to frantically type an explanation, but a picture of a winking face showed up from Beth, along with the note, _Don't I always?_ _I'll kick it up a notch tomorrow_ _._ "Oh, shit," Daryl said in surprise. He showed the message to Merle, who nodded triumphantly.

"There you go! Hell yeah! I think the phrase is, 'Thank you, big brother. I'm a dumbass and wouldn't know what the fuck I'm doin' without you guiding me through life.' Message her to bake me something. I'm doin' half the work, here! Seriously. I'll swing by the bar and pick it up tomorrow." Merle tossed his rag on the counter. "I'm clockin' out. Starvin'."

Daryl grunted his acknowledgement. As soon as Merle had gone, he whipped out his phone and stared at the screen in disbelief. That damn girl was going to wear something sexy for him.


	5. Sex on the Beach

**Muffins! Thank you so much for your kind feedback.  
Hold onto your saddles. I see signs of the outbreak stirring up... things can't be fun and games forever!**

" _I told you,"_ Maggie's angry voice snarled from the iPad. "What's the first thing I said? That man is out for one thing. Who texts and says to wear something sexy? What would Daddy say if he knew you were parading all over town, trying to look sexy for some old man? You were raised better than this."

Beth rolled her eyes. "He ain't old, Maggie. He's practically my age. And Daddy would be happy that I found a way to get stuff done around the house."

"Yeah, at the price of _something else_ gettin' done around the house." Maggie sneered over Skype and shook her head. "Pick up your phone. Text him. Say you can't come. Say you're sick. Heck, straight-up tell him that he's old and creepy. Your first boyfriend can't be this old guy. No way." She crossed her arms and stuck her chin out. "I'll drive down there and tell him myself."

"No, you won't," Beth sighed. "And this won't be my first boyfriend. I had a bunch in college. I didn't tell no one because _I knew_ you'd all act like this. I'm the youngest, but I ain't young! You know everyone back there my age has a bunch of kids already. Plus, not every man is a creep. There are good men out there, and Daryl is one of them. I know it." She spun around again. "So is this good, or is it dumb? I want to be sexy. I think different is sexy sometimes, you know?"

"Ugh. Bethy. I ain' havin' this conversation. You call me if you get into any trouble. I mean it. If you don't text me by midnight, I'm callin' the police station down there. Got it?" Maggie sighed in disappointment. "Beth! Hello! Got it? I swear I will call the police on this man if you don't call me."

Beth ignored her sister's voice. "Uh huh, thanks for the confidence! I know, I do look nice. I'll text you later. Byeee!" She shut the iPad off and turned back to the mirror. She was wearing jeans with a black tank top. Simple, but sexy in a _I just threw this on_ way. Blonde curls were gathered into pin-up style victory rolls on top of her head and tied up with a black bandana. Red lipstick and studded black heels pulled the look together and she hoped for the best. If Daryl wanted to see sexy, Beth figured she owed him that. He was a gentleman, a little rough around the edges, but never leered at her or tried to get her into her bedroom. Beth stared into the mirror and took a deep breath. "There are good men out there, and Daryl is one of them," she whispered to her reflection with a smile. If she was going to be in this town for a while, maybe it was time to look for more than just someone to clean her gutters.

* * *

Daryl peeled at the label on the beer bottle as he sat at the bar waiting for Beth. Though annoyed, he was used to their Friday night drinks routine. He'd arrive at McCarthy's Pub at 7:00 sharp like they'd planned. Beth would come flying in ten or fifteen minutes later, her big blue eyes wide in panic. She'd apologize profusely and offer up some excuse about mascara or hair texturizer he didn't understand or care to hear details about. Sighing, he glanced at the clock. 7:20. That damn girl was getting later every week. He should just show up at 7:30 next week and maybe they'd get there at the same time.

"Girlfriend get something better to do tonight?" the bartender asked as he wiped the counter down. "Well done – that one's a fox. Wish I'd have seen her first."

Daryl grunted and ignored him.

* * *

"Hey, girl! What in the hell are you wearin'? Lookin' go _ooooood._ "

Immediately recognizing the voice as Merle's, Beth hollered back to the man in the pickup, "Give me a ride and I'll give you your brownies." She was power-walking down the street in her heels, balancing her giant purse on one shoulder with a plate of brownies in her hand. Her Skype session with Maggie had gone long, so she was late again. Daryl would kill her, maybe, but hopefully he'd appreciate the time it took for her to sexy herself up for him, as he'd requested. Without waiting for Merle's response, she crossed the street in front of his truck and got in. "Here. Brownies from scratch. Thanks for being all right lately." She scrunched up her nose at him. "If you told me back in college that I'd end up getting in your truck willingly, I wouldn't have believed it."

Merle peeled the plastic wrap back from the plate and stuffed a brownie into his mouth. "Yet here we are."

"McCarthy's, please," she said. "You know it's Friday drinks night."

"I do," Merle nodded as he popped another brownie into his mouth. "What's this get-up for?"

"I wanted to change things up." Beth bit her lip and looked down at her freshly painted black nails. Self-consciousness rolled over her. _Was_ it too much? Was Maggie right?

"Well my little brother's certainly a lucky man." Merle parked outside the bar and looked over at the girl. He almost regretted all of the drunken nights he'd spent at the Atlanta club, hanging out at her table. It had always been clear she was just there for the money, not to take her clothes off. She'd been a challenge and he was a prick when he was drunk. Now she was sitting in front of him, wearing something sexy because she thought Daryl had asked her to. A guilt settled over him and he knew when he got home from the bar, he'd take a bump to wipe the feeling away.

"Oh, he ain't no luckier than anyone else," Beth replied, trying to slip back into her confidence. "I don't want you gettin' the wrong idea about me and Daryl." She checked her lipstick in the mirror.

Merle had already flung the door open, but he remained in the pick-up. A sick feeling settled in his stomach that he couldn't attribute to the brownies. _Daryl's gonna be crushed._ "What? You tellin' me you ain' together?"

"No! Well," Beth hesitated. "Not like that." She cocked her head to the side and couldn't figure out why Merle was glaring at her like he was about to physically pick her up and toss her out onto the curb. "Is something wrong?"

"Not like-" Merle repeated. "You're shittin' me." His nostrils flared and he narrowed his eyes at her. "I warned him that you were yankin' his chain, just gettin' him to fix your shit."

"What are you talking about? I'm not _sleeping with him_ to get him to help me out,"Beth said in a hushed, scandalous tone.

"You think I don't know that?" Merle leaned on the steering wheel. "Listen here. You quit leadin' him on. It's my job to look out for him, and I ain' lettin' some pretty young thing waltz in and use him and leave him all messed up when you go on to the next guy who you can use for one thing or another." As he got out of the truck and slammed the door, a pained look crossed his face and Beth suddely got it.

"No, wait, no!" she exclaimed, stomping across the street to beat him to the bar door. "I thought you were asking about my sex life." She winced at saying the phrase aloud. "We haven't had the _together_ talk. Yeah, he fixes stuff for me, but a lot of it is just so I'll have an excuse to have him over. I don't think he even likes me. Well, maybe. I can't tell."

Merle clapped his hand to his forehead, then laughed. "Jesus H. Christ, girl! What the fuck's your problem? Let me put it this way." In a mocking tone, he asked, "Do you like my brother or don't ya?"

" _Shh!_ I'm nervous. Daryl told me to wear something sexy tonight. It didn't seem like something he'd say. My sister says that sounds like he's looking for one thing only, but he's been just so nice and he's such a good listener and I thought that might mean that-"

Merle held up a hand. "Let's just get one thing straight to clear it all up. Just tell me you ain' leadin' him on."

"Oh my god, no," Beth breathed. "Is he leading _me_ on?"

Merle guffawed. "You're sure naive, girl. Look at how he looks at you when you walk in the bar and then you tell me what you think."

Beth hesitated at the door a moment longer. "Remember I told you I couldn't believe you were related to a decent human being?"

"Sounds like something you'd say."

"Maybe you're decent, yourself." Beth flashed him a smile as she flung open the door and walked in.

Merle snorted behind her. "Not likely."

Beth scanned the bar. She spotted Daryl hunched over the bar, being talked at by the bartender. When he turned and saw her, he nodded in greeting and held eye contact with her for a moment before looking down in an attempt to conceal a small grin.

"There you go, girl," Merle murmured in her ear as he walked past her. "Get your skinny ass over there." He spanked her on the side of her thigh, and Beth giggled and trotted over to his brother at the bar. "Merle, you son of a bitch, you turned soft. Playin' god damn matchmaker." He got a beer, then headed to his buddies' table and left the pair to it.

Beth plopped down on her usual stool. "Hey, sorry I'm late." She dropped her bag on the bar and spun so she was facing Daryl.

"Used to it," he replied as he slid her her usual cocktail. She ordered the same thing every time, so he'd taken to ordering it before she even arrived. "Where'd you find Merle?"

"Ooh, thanks!" She grabbed the pink drink and took a sip. "Ah, Merle was around. I was walkin' but he gave me a ride."

"Ya look nice." Darl stared at her hair and wonder how she got it up like that. She looked like one of those old school magazine girls, but that didn't seem like a flattering thing to say. "The hair – it's, it's nice, too," he stuttered. She was certainly sexy, and she seemed a little nervous. He wondered why, but didn't bother asking. The way she blabbered, she was bound to tell him anyway.

Beth smiled. "Well, you said you wanted sexy." She giggled and blushed. Before Daryl could answer, a pop song blared from inside Beth's purse. She sighed and reached for her phone, expecting to ignore a call from Maggie. When she saw her work number pop up, Beth made a face. "Friday night and work's calling? Can't be right." She let the call go to voicemail and turned her attention back to Daryl. "Anyway." She touched one of her victory rolls to make sure it was still in place, then ran a finger along the edge of her bottom lip to ensure her lipstick wasn't bleeding.

"I didn't sent that message to ya," Daryl grumbled suddenly.

"What?" Beth cocked her head. "But I thought you-"

"Merle took my phone and sent it." He shook his head at her. "Ya always look," he paused, then settled on, "good." Hearing himself was painful and he took a long drink.

"Oh." Beth blushed again glared back at Merle's table. "I think I know what's going on here."

Daryl raised an eyebrow. "Huh?"

"Merle's trying to set us up." She laughed. "I should have known." Her phone began ringing again. "Ugh." She silenced it.

"Answer it," Daryl said in annoyance. "They'll jus' keep callin'."

Beth sighed and picked up. "Beth Greene."

Daryl watched her red lips pucker in concentration as she listened to whoever was on the other side of the phone. So Merle had pestered Beth, too. He was surprised to find he wasn't even mad. Maybe having a girl around would be a nice change of pace. Daryl already always seemed to be covered in blonde hair whenever he left Beth's, and he was no longer certain if it was the food or the company he looked forward to on Tuesday nights. He thought about her during the day when he was working, and even more on nights when he knew she was at home by herself. Now as she spoke and tapped the outside of her cell phone in agitation with one of those black fingernails, Daryl realized two things: he'd probably find _all_ women annoying, and that Beth Greene was all right, as far as annoying girls went.

"Problem at work?" he asked as Beth set her phone down.

Beth rolled her eyes and took a drink. "My manager is out sick and says she'll be out for all of next week. I guess something's going around the hospital up there and just taking everyone out." She shrugged. "Anyway, I've basically got double the work load next week. Totally worth calling me on a Friday night, right? Guess I'd better party it up tonight since I'll be up to my neck in work come Monday."

"Two tequila shots," Daryl called to the bartender. "You wanna party, we'll party." He flashed her a grin. "It's Friday, right? Nothin' to lose."

* * *

It was only ten o'clock, but Daryl was more than ready to drag Beth home. She was holding on to the bar for support, laughing loudly, and being generally obnoxious and way too touchy. Flanked by both Daryl and Merle, she giggled and pushed her drink away. "I _can't,"_ she laughed. "I'm going to die, like, literal _die._ "

"You gotta drink past that point," Merle demanded, slurring his words. "Drink up, buttercup." He slid the glass back to her. "You gonna hang with us, you gonna drink with us."

Beth shook her head, then slid off her stool and into Daryl. "Too dizzy!" She giggled again as Daryl wrapped his arm around her waist to hold her up.

"Looks like neither of you is drivin' home," Daryl grumbled. He'd stopped drinking an hour ago, sensing that Beth was going to need a babysitter for the night. He hadn't anticipated that Merle would wander over and start pumping Beth full of shots. His party attitude had quickly disappeared at that point. He didn't feel right letting Beth get hammered and have no one to watch out for her.

"Maybe you should just save a trip and I'll stay with you tonight," Beth giggled into Daryl's face. Her heels were now deathtraps attached to her feet and she leaned wholly on Daryl for support. In her drunkenness, she batted her mascara eyes at him seductively. "I don't take up much space."

He raised an eyebrow and set her back on her own stool. When Merle slid the cocktail into her hand and she tried to take a drink, Daryl snatched it out of her hand and dumped it out behind the bar. "Hasn' anyone told ya not to take drinks from strange men?"

Beth and Merle both collapsed into giggles; holding onto each other for support. Daryl exchanged glances with the bartender. "We're cashin' out."

"Damn straight you are!" A tall brunette stormed right for the shook her finger firmly in Merle's face as she spoke sternly and accusingly. "Listen here. I don't care who you are, but you're going to leave my little sister alone."

" _Maaaaaaaggieeeeeeee!"_ Beth cooed, reaching out and wrapping her arms around the brunette. She slid off of her stool and the taller girl had to catch her before the slid onto the floor.

"How much have you had to drink?" Maggie exclaimed. "I knew you'd be in trouble. I _knew_ I had to come down here. Do you even know these creeps? How old are they? Come on, Beth. We're going home." She lunged and snatched Beth's purse off of the bar and sneered at Merle as she did. "I can't believe you put your hands on her."

Merle cackled. "You must be big sister. I getcha." He nodded and thumped Daryl on the back. "This here's my baby bro. I get it. Gotta watch out for them, clean up after them, see that they're tendin' to their affairs."

Maggie sneered. "We're leavin'."

" _Noooooo,"_ Beth whined. She squinted at Maggie, trying to get the double vision to go away. "I want to stay. They're my friends. I hung out with Merle on weekends during college!" She giggled and high-fived Merle, but missed and fell into his chest instead. The pair were giggling again as Maggie and Daryl groaned at the spectacle.

"Oh, my god," Maggie breathed. "Bethy, wait until Daddy hears about this." She grabbed Beth by the belt loops and dragged her off of Merle. "Don't tell me this was one of your boyfriends."

Beth shook her head. "No, as much as he tried." She turned to the bartender. "A drink for my sister!"

"No. No, thanks. We're leavin'. Sit down, first." Maggie pushed Beth onto the barstool and stooped to fumble with the buckles on her heels. "Once I get these off, we're leavin'."

Beth made a pouty face and turned to Daryl. "Raincheck, then?"

"On what?" Daryl raised an eyebrow.

Beth winked and pressed a finger to her bright red lips.

Daryl kept his head down and waited for the door to swing closed behind Beth and her sister. He didn't want to deal with Maggie's fury.

"Ooh-hoo! I'll take that one," Merle said as Daryl tossed down a card with the bartender. When he stuffed his wallet back into his pocket, Daryl realized he'd taken Beth's phone so she'd stop taking pictures of him. "Shit. I'll be right back." He hopped up and ran out onto the street, where Beth was laughing loudly and Maggie was trying desperately to hush her. "Hey," he called as he jogged to them.

" _Daaaryllllllll!"_

"What?" Maggie snapped. "I'm takin' her." She stepped in front of Beth defensively. "I have pepper spray. Get away from us."

" _You're embarrassing meeeeee!"_ Beth whined.

"Here's her phone." Daryl kept his distance, but held the phone out in the least threatening way he could manage. He didn't doubt that he was seconds away from catching a faceful of mace.

Maggie snatched it out of his hand and tucked it into her own pocket. "Well, thank you." She nodded curtly. "Good night."

Daryl nodded and turned to go peel Merle off of his barstool and drag him home to bed.

"Wait," Beth cried, turning and stumbling back towards Daryl.

" _Beth,"_ Maggie snapped.

"Tonight was fun," Beth said, grabbing Daryl's hand and pulling him back around. "See you tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow?" Daryl repeated. "We ain' got plans."

"We'll do something, just us. No Merle." Beth said. "Maybe dinner out? Like, a date?" She held her breath and bounced up onto her toes hopefully. Thought she was drunk, she liked the fleeting look of pleasant surprise that passed on Daryl's face.

Maggie crossed her arms and glared his direction.

"Spend time with your sister," Daryl said softly. "Tuesday."

Beth frowned.

"Night." Daryl turned to leave again, but was stopped a second time when Beth pulled at his arm again.

"Daryl." She stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his cheek before pulling back, smiling at him, and trotting back to Maggie. "Good night!" she called before grabbing Maggie's hand and running down the street giggling.

Daryl touched his cheek in disbelief. That damn girl got drunk and kissed him in the middle of the damn street. He laughed softly to himself before turning and going back into the bar.


	6. The Slow Burn

**Hi, dolls. Your reviews full of annoyance about Maggie being Maggie cracked me up. She's not the world's worst sister... she just seems to fly off the handle at first... most of the time. Beth's manager in the Atlanta hospital is still sick - one more weekend before Monday. What horrors will it bring? We'll find out later. (:**

Daryl was tinkering with a broken down bike in his garage when his phone went off at eight thirty Saturday morning.

Beth's name popped up on the screen. " _I'm dying. What would it take for you to bring me a fountain Coke and some hash brown_ _s_ _from the diner? Thanks."_

Daryl snorted and replied. " _Have Maggie get it."_ He'd barely set the phone down when it vibrated again.

" _She won't. This hangover is fatal. Need diner food stat. Death imminent."_

 _"Drink some water."_

 _"Dying. Coke=elixir of life." B_ eth squinted at the brightness of the phone screen for a moment before sighing and tossing it back onto the mattress beside her. She'd been awoken by a splitting headache and a churning stomach. The room had finally stopped spinning, but the soft sounds of Maggie stirring in the kitchen sounded like booming cymbals in her ears.Beth groaned and tried to recall the previous night's shenanigans. All she could remember was laughing a lot and the fact that she was going to be faced with a shitshow of a week once Monday rolled around. She tried to get comfortable, but no matter which way she tossed and turned, Beth couldn't escape the punishing hangover pain. A few minutes later when Yoshi pawed open her bedroom door and jumped onto the bed to lick her face enthusiastically, she moaned and pushed him away. "Noooo," she moaned. "Down."

"Oh, you're up?" Maggie's voice came. Footsteps marched down the hall, then a _creak_ when she sat on the foot of Beth's bed. "You wanna explain last night?"

"Shhh," Beth moaned, rolling over. "So loud." Yoshi yowled and curled up next to her head.

Smirking, Maggie opened the blinds and let in the bright sunshine. She ripped the pillow from Beth's hands, sending Yoshi into a frenzy. "Sorry, is that too bright? Drink too much last night?"

"Ughhnnnn."

"I _knew_ that guy was old. I can't believe you tried to pass him off as 'practically my age.'" Maggie sat back down on the bed and watched in approval as the dog stuck its nose into Beth's face and snuffled. "Beth, folks ain' all like us. What did you mean when you said you hung out with him in college? Don't tell me you had a sugar daddy-"

"Merle?" Beth groaned as she sat up. Her hair stuck in all directions and her makeup from last night was smeared all over her face. "I knew him from a job at a – a restaurant I worked at. I ain' datin' Merle! Ew! Geeze. He _is_ old."

Maggie wrinkled her nose. "So the younger one? Oh. He brought out your phone since you were too trashed to take care of it." She paused. "Well, I guess he was the cuter of the two. He's still too old."

"Shhhh," Beth hissed again. "Let's talk later."

Maggie sighed and called Yoshi to her. "Go back to sleep, ya lush."

* * *

Daryl rapped at Beth's door, hating himself. He'd ignored Beth's texts for half an hour and gone back to work on the bike, but a gnawing guilt drove him to the diner around the corner from Beth's for her damn Coke and hash browns. _Shouldn't have let her drink that much, so I guess I owe her breakfast._ That damn girl had him wrapped around her little finger, and he couldn't do anything about it, annoying as hell as that was.

"You?" Maggie greeted him when she opened the door a crack. "What – what're you doin' here?"

"She texted me. It's her hangover cure. Here." Daryl offered her the drink and bag.

Maggie stepped back and studied the man. He seemed put-together in the mechanic sort of way that reminded her fondly of Otis. A bandana hung from his back pocket and his work boots were tied up as if they were combat boots. He had a smudge of grease on his forehead, but he was otherwise clean. The fact that he'd come over at nine o'clock on a Saturday morning with breakfast that Beth had asked him for definitely won him some points. "She's still in bed. You can go on and give it to her. She was nothin' but nasty to me for wakin' her up, so good luck," Maggie said, pulling the door open wide. "So _you're_ Daryl."

He nodded and stepped in. "She ain' usually as wild as last night. Got a call her boss is out all this week and she wanted to cut loose."

"Oh." Maggie nodded. "Well, go on."

Daryl headed down the hall an popped his head into Beth's bedroom. "Hey, Sunshine."

Beth opened an eye. "Oh, my god. I didn't think you'd actually come." She sat up and pressed her hands to her temple. "Ugh."

"Here's your order." He sat it on the table next to her bed and leaned back against the wall. "I ain' gonna let you and Merle hang out anymore. Neither of you can handle it."

"He started it," Beth grumbled, digging into the bag and pulling out a box of hash browns. She tore into the greasy potatoes ravenously. "So you called Maggie? Was I that bad?"

"I didn' call no one. She just showed up," Daryl replied indignantly. "I can handle your skinny ass myself. You might be a loud drunk, but ya ain't hard to pick up and throw in the truck and take home."

"Oh." Beth took a long drink of Coke and let the fizz bubble up before swallowing. It washed the taste of stale drool and alcohol from her mouth. As her stomach settled and headache subsided, she realized she was still in last night's clothes. "Ugh, I'm a hot mess. Thank you for bringing this. I was half kidding. I didn't know if you'd be busy or what."

Daryl nodded. "Yup." He glanced around her room. Whether by her design or not, none of her projects had brought him here. The bright blue walls and bright pops of color didn't surprise him one bit, but the pistol on the dresser did.

"So you met Maggie last night," Beth said cautiously through a mouthful of hash browns.

"Yup. She dragged your drunk ass out of there pretty handily."

"Was she mean?" Beth asked quietly. "She thinks you're too old for me to daaaa-" she snapped her mouth shut in realization of what she'd said. Her brain was still fuzzy from the liquor and there were no thoughts swirling to the surface to save her.

Daryl cocked his head ever so slightly. "For you to what?"

Beth cleared her throat. "Hang out with."

"Mmhmm," Daryl hummed suspiciously. "I _am_ too old for you to hang out with. I always end up babysittin' and keeping you from falling out of those shoes and breakin' your damn ankle." He gave her a look of annoyance. "You told her we're datin'."

Maggie smiled to herself in the hallway as she eavesdropped on their conversation.

"Shut up," Beth giggled. "She thought Merle was you, apparently."

The smirk wiped away from Daryl's face. "What? I don' look nothin' like Merle." He spat the name as if it was an insult.

"No, I guess he was talking to me when she came in," Beth laughed. She paused and listened to make sure Maggie wasn't walking down the hall. Lowering her voice, she continued, "Okay. Here's the deal. Yeah. That might be what I told her about you. You know, to make her worry less about me bein' down here all by myself. Daddy worries about me, and,"

"I said I ain' your boyfriend," Daryl interrupted. He felt his ears get hot and turn red. He scratched the back of his neck; a nervous tic he'd never been able to stop.

"Well if you knew my family you'd understand that they don't think I can function without one." Beth cleared her throat.

"You _can't_ function without one," Daryl replied. "Ain' that why I'm here all the time?" He turned and looked out the window. _Shit. Did I just –?_ _S_ _hit._ He quickly changed the subject and hoped she didn't read too much into what he'd said. "Reminds me. Storm season's gonna be comin' soon. I'm cutting that big limb off. That one there, see? One big gust and it'll come right through this here window. I've got the chainsaw in the truck."

"It's fine." Beth shrugged and tossed the empty coke cup on the table. "Besides, I like that tree."

"Not the tree. Just that branch. Either you lose it or you get killed during a storm. I'm takin' it down. Might as well do it right now, actually."

"But it's-"

"Storm season. I ain' got nothin' better to do."

"Daryl! You can't just cut down my tree."

He glared at her. "Woman, you're being stubborn just to be stubborn. If you're gonna make me fix your entire house and bring you breakfast and take you out every Friday, I'm takin' down that branch."

"Wait," Beth breathed, her blue eyes brightening. "Does that mean-"

"No," Daryl snapped. Her hurt expression made him want to retract his answer, but he stood his ground. _She's too young._ "I ain' your boyfriend."

"Then why are you-"

"'Cause I am."

"Daryl! You totally want to be-"

"I don't." Daryl crossed his arms. Completely ignoring his retorts, Beth beamed. Though her dark eye makeup leftover from last night made her look like a raccoon and her victory rolls were now fuzzy and lopsided, she positively glowed. Something in Daryl's stomach tightened and he loved that stupid look on her face, and the fact that he was the reason she looked like that. "No," he repeated. "Don't look at me like that."

"Merle was right," Beth sang out. She giggled and crawled out of bed toward him. "You _like_ me. I _knew it."_

"Get out of here," Daryl grumbled, stepping back toward the doorway. "You don' know nothin'. I brought you breakfast because you're too drunk to go out and get it yourself."

"We're datin' and you know it." Beth positioned herself so that Daryl would have to push past her to leave the bedroom. "Admit it." Her hangover had quickly dissipated and she was piecing together parts of last night. Daryl's hand had kept finding its way to her knee as they sat at the bar, and she recalled repeatedly leaning on his shoulder and shouting into his ear over the music. Often his arm snaked around her waist as she told him some dumb thing about this or that. "You like havin' me around," she declared in triumph. "I couldn't tell for so long, but now I can."

In the hallway, Maggie tiptoed back to the kitchen with a soft smile on her face. "I don't know, Yoshi, maybe he's okay," she whispered to the dog, who cocked his head in utter lack of comprehending.

"We ain't," Daryl growled. "I never said that." He realized she had him pinned against the bed. _Shit. What's she gonna do?_ He gave her a hard stare to deter her.

"You act like it," Beth exclaimed. "Come on! You'd never go out with another woman, would you?"

Sensing a trap, Daryl smirked. "Ain' no one else around here."

"If there was, would you?" Beth gave him a hearty side-smile.

 _She already knows the answer._ "I'm too busy fixin' your shit for anyone else," Daryl replied. When she grinned that big smile again, he couldn' help but laugh. He realized he'd played right into the palm of her hand. "Get out of here," he said with a small smile. "Spend the weekend with your sister."

Beth hesitated and continued to block his way out of the room. _Did he just confess? Are we together? Should I ask him?_ She smiled dumbly at him as she tried to think of what to do or say. A sudden craze passed over her and she wanted to kiss him for bringing her breakfast and cutting down the tree limb and everything else.

As if he read her mind, Daryl, narrowed his eyes and shook his head. "Go take a shower. You're a mess."

Beth pursed her lips and without a word, turned and slunk into the bathroom. So close.

* * *

"Hey," Maggie called as Daryl stepped out onto the front porch."You leavin'?"

"Naw," Daryl replied. "I'm cuttin' down that branch. Haven' had a chance to until now. Better off she's showerin'. I don't wanna her her complainin' 'bout destroying nature."

Maggie followed him outside. "Sounds about right. You ain' gonna make Beth learn how to do it, though?"

Daryl snorted. "This girl can't even handle a drill. I ain' givin' her a chainsaw." He walked to his truck and pulled out the chainsaw and a ladder.

"Good point. Need help?"

Daryl shook his head. "Naw." He propped the ladder against the tree trunk and glanced up. "I got it."

Maggie sat in the sun on the front porch as Daryl worked. "You know," she piped after the limb came crashing down a few minutes later, "my daddy would really like you. You're quiet, apparently know how to fix everything, take care of Bethy," she trailed off and shrugged. "Just sayin'."

"What, you playin' matchmaker now? From the sounds of last night, you're here to make sure she ain' with anybody." Daryl climbed down the ladder and began cutting the wood into smaller sections.

"I was," Maggie agreed. "Maybe I should give her more credit. I heard you tellin' her you're taking that branch down no matter how much she whined about it. You're clearly taking care of her. " She offered a grin, but Daryl continued to scowl.

"I ain' takin' care of no one," Daryl snapped. "She ain' my responsibility. I jus' know she won' do it herself and she don' got the tools."

"Okay," Maggie said with a nod. "Then I guess it won't matter when she comes back to the farm once she's got her college debt paid off in a few months."

Daryl's neck cracked as he snapped his head up to stare at the woman. "What?" His heart thudded out of time and he racked his brain, trying to determine if Beth had ever mentioned that. _But she bought a house?_

Maggie smirked. "Just kiddin'. She's stayin' here. You sure look worried, though." As Daryl sneered and began tossing pieces of tree into the bed of his pickup, Maggie laughed. "Oh, drop the tough guy act. If you're hangin' out with Beth, you can't be that surly. She's like a pure ray of unfiltered sunshine and butterflies with some glitter mixed in. She's a bit much sometimes, but you're still around."

"I guess," Daryl grumbled as he tossed the last of the branch into the truck. He loaded the tools back up then lingered at the stoop, unsure if he should wait for Beth to say goodbye, or just leave. Though he likely had ten years on Maggie, he couldn't help but feel like she was chaperoning him.

"It's still pretty early. Why don't we meet you for lunch somewhere around one?" Maggie suggested. "Was that your brother at the bar last night? Bring him, too."

"Merle?" Daryl asked in disbelief. "Why?"

Maggie shrugged. "I wasn' very nice last night. I should give him a chance, too. Ya don' have to if ya don' wan',"

"Merle's not coming," Daryl grumbled. "He don' hang 'round much."

"Okay. Well, I'll have Beth text you the place. Thanks for taking that limb down. I think you're right. One strong gust and it's in the house. I'm glad you're here. Beth told me about the rattlesnake, and the electrical problem. Oh, and her broken toilet." She shaded her eyes and grinned up at him. "You're a regular knight in shinin' armor, huh?"

"Whatever," Daryl shrugged. As he got into his truck, he snorted to himself. That damn girl had decided they were dating without his input, and now he was going to lunch with her sister. He wondered how a ray of sunshine like Beth ended up following him around, but he realized with a jolt of surprise that he was the one following her.


	7. Sister Dear

**I was going to gloss over the lunch, but it seems like you're dying to know what Maggie stirs up. Okay, probably goes something like this.  
**

* * *

Beth jiggled her foot and sipped at her peach iced tea. Maggie smiled across the table. Beth rolled her eyes at her. "Stop it. I know you're thinkin'. I ain' nervous."

"Okay," Maggie replied. "Then you ain't nervous that your new boyfriend is coming to lunch with your only sister who will probably go home and tell every excruciating detail to the rest of the family." She shrugged. "I wouldn't be nervous either."

A motorcycle rumbled down the street and Beth sat up straighter. When a tall, burly biker walked onto the back patio of the cafe, she slumped down in her seat again.

"You like him. He likes you. Why are ya'll bein' so," Maggie shrugged. "So whatever? You were right. He's a good guy. Daddy would like him. He'll take care of you. Don't scare him away. Maybe tone back the giddiness a little."

Beth took a long drink of tea to steady herself. "I've only been here a few months. I've only known Daryl a few months. I'm not giddy. I'm being mature. Cautious." After a second, she giggled and grabbed Maggie's hands. "He likes me?"

"Yeah, mature all right. Geeze, Bethy. We ain' in junior high. Oh, there he is." Maggie waved. "Hey! Hey, we're here."

"Sup?" Daryl greeted them as he pulled up the chair next to Beth. He pulled out a cigarette and held it between his lips while he fished for his lighter.

"You can't smoke here," Beth hissed, snatching the cigarette between her fingers. "You shouldn't smoke anyway."

Daryl glared at her, but nevertheless stuffed his lighter back in his pocket.

"If looks could kill," Beth said, giving him a hard glare in response. "I ain' scared of you. By the way, I see you cut my tree branch down like I said you didn't have to do."

Daryl picked up a menu. "Yup."

"Didn' bring your brother?" Maggie asked. "You'll have to tell him I'm sorry for being so headstrong last night."

"He probably liked it," Beth giggled. "We could double date sometime."

"I don't think so," Maggie replied quickly. "No offense," she added.

"I wouldn' date him either," Daryl grumbled. He debated on pointing out that they'd have to be dating in order to have a double date, but reluctantly let the comment slide. He stole a glance at Beth and smiled. She was back to braids and cowboy boots and that goofy grin as she talked about everything under the sun to her sister. He mentally berated Merle for texting her to wear something sexy. That damn girl looked good when she wasn't even trying.

Over lunch Daryl mostly listened to the sisters chat about what was going on back at the farm, what Beth did at work, and all of the house improvements he'd made. He occasionally fielded a question from Maggie, but otherwise sat back and ate and listened. He couldn't quite place why they'd wanted him to come, but the company was certainly better than Merle and his crew.

Once the trio had cleaned their plates, Daryl picked up the check, much to Maggie's dismay and Beth's delight. "I'm always payin' for this one's drinks, what's another lunch?" he shrugged as Maggie frowned.

"Now what do you want to do?" Beth asked, her eyes wide and eager. "We could go for a walk. Or we could go bowling!"

"I've got a bike to work on," Daryl lied. "I'm sure ya'll have girl stuff to do."

Maggie gave him a lopsided smile. "You sure?"

Daryl nodded. "Yup." The look the older Greene girl was giving him said that she saw right through his excuse but appreciated it.

"Then I probably won't see you before I go home," she said, pulling him into a loose hug. "Thank you for taking care of my baby sister," Maggie whispered in his ear before kissing his cheek. She stepped away and gave him a warm smile. "It was nice to meet you, Daryl. Really."

He nodded, half in shock that she'd kissed him. _Beth_ hadn't even kissed him yet. _Yet?_ he thought in surprise. _Stop it. She's too young for you, ya creep._

"So I'll see you later, then," Beth chimed. "Tuesday, of course! Maybe before then?"

Daryl shrugged. "Call me if ya need me."

"I'm sure she'll find some excuse to call," Maggie called after him.

Daryl heard Beth slap Maggie's arm and hiss at her. As the girls snapped at each other, he put on his sunglasses and strode away, pulling a cigarette out and putting it between his lips.

" _Daryl!_ "Beth called angrily from across the patio.

He turned back. "What?"

Beth frowned and tapped her lips. "I literally just said you shouldn't smoke."

As couples and families at nearby tables turned to look at him, he spit out the cigarette. "That damn girl," he grumbled to a table full of men who were chuckling at him.


	8. Monday

Write press release on state of the outbreak. _Check._  
Send release to the media. _Check._  
Field calls and interview requests from media. _Ongoing._  
Prepare evacuation materials, including press release, in case it gets to that point. _Check._  
Answer questions through phone, website, and social media. _Ongoing._

Beth sat back in her desk chair and stretched. It was two thirty Monday afternoon and until now, she hadn't taken a break or slowed her pace one bit. She'd gotten the downright shocking news that her manager in Atlanta had died from the same virus that was spreading like wildfire and keeping her busy. The hospital board of directors were on site and had given her a list of directives to keep the public as calm as possible.

Things in the main medical building were apparently crazy, but Beth's small office was in the neighboring administrative building and she hadn't gotten a chance to step away. She'd called in to several radio stations to explain the day's developments and met with the town's newspaper editor. He was crafting a story for Tuesday and had ignored Beth's warnings that by the time the paper went to print, things would have changed drastically one way or another.

Beth reached for her phone to check her texts, but stopped when her stomach released an angry growl.

"Stop and eat something," her office mate Barb said. "You've been go, go, go all day."

"Isn't everyone this week?" Beth replied as she stood and stretched again. "Yell if my phone starts ringing."

Barb gave her a thumbs up and went back to work.

Humming to herself, Beth strolled to the kitchenette and began warming up her leftovers. She thought to shoot Daryl a text, but realized she'd left her cell on her desk. She made a note to try and remember to do it soon. While the microwave spun, she peered out the window. _That can't be right._ Beth pressed her eyes closed, then opened them again. Sure enough, a patient was wandering down the front steps of the medical building. Blood dripped from her hands and onto her gown, and she looked about in confusion.

Beth dove for an office phone. "There's a patient out the front door. How does a patient just leave? She doesn't look good."

"Thanks, we'll get her," the nurse at the other end of the line said before hanging up.

"Barb," Beth called. "Come look at this. I haven't seen any of the patients until now. There's a woman outside."

Barb trotted into the break room and stood beside Beth at the window. "You've been on the phone all morning so you haven't heard." She peered at the woman, then clicked her tongue and shook her head. "I heard we're strapping patients down to beds. Even the ones that aren't to the dormant phase yet."

"Dormant phase?" Beth repeated.

"Stage one: they're sick. Stage two: they go dormant – the docs thought the patients died, but they just go dormant. Stage three: they come back all hostile and with these creepy looking eyes," Barb explained. The pointed out the window. "That one's a hostile."

"She's a patient," Beth said in surprise. "Not a _hostile."_

"One of them took out Dr. Jameson last night. Bit a chunk out of his arm. He's sick now, and that means he'll become one of _them,"_ Barb said, shuddering. "As long as we stay over here, we'll be all right. They're letting families in to see patients, but the familes haven't said too much to anyone because they're scared."

Beth blinked. "What about Dr. Forsyth? He said he was putting pieces together about what this could be."

"Didn't show up for work, said he's done. Saw what the hostiles do and decided he was done doctoring. It's not just here. Docs are abandoning their posts everywhere." Barb sighed. "I've done this for ten years. Never thought I'd see something like this."

Outside the window, the bloody patient turned and peered up at the hospital steps as two officers slowly approached her.

"Why are their guns drawn?" Beth gasped. "Not on the front steps. Oh, my god. What if someone sees? That poor woman must be horrified!"

Barb shook her head. "No. She has no idea."

The patient lunged at one of the officers. A gunshot rang out and the woman jerked backward as a bullet tore through her shoulder. Beth gasped and stumbled away from the window. When the microwave beeped a second later, she jumped again. "Jesus," she breathed, running back to the window. Disbelief washed over her and her knees knocked together.

"The virus gets into their brain and messed them up. Look. She doesn't even care," Barb breathed as the woman continued toward the officers.

Beth squeezed her eyes shut and jumped when two more gunshots rang out. A tear ran down her cheek as the situation became more than words on a press release.

Back in Beth's office, her forgotten cell phone vibrated and went unanswered again. Across town, Daryl frowned and stuffed his phone back in his pocket. As much as he tried not to be, he was worried sick about Beth and why she wasn't answering. He went back to work, hoping she would send word that things at the hospital weren't as bad as he was hearing.


	9. Honey Do

At 8:00 Monday night, Daryl let himself into Beth's bungalow. At some point she'd given him a key so he could finish a time-sensitive project while she was at work, but the key had never found its way back to her. Yoshi trotted to the door to greet him. "Hey, boy," Daryl muttered as he bent and scratched the dog's ears. "Beth!" he called. "Beth." Nothing in the house seemed askew, which comforted him slightly. " _Beth?"_

5:00 had come and gone without Beth stopping by the garage on her walk home. She hadn't responded to his texts or calls and he had a sick feeling in his gut that she'd caught whatever was going around. As a matter of fact, the last he'd heard from her was Sunday afternoon when she'd texted that she'd had a nice weekend and Maggie had gone back to the farm.

"Oh!" Beth exclaimed as she appeared from the hallway. "Daryl." Her eyes were bloodshot and her hands were shaking. "Oh, my gosh, I never texted you back." She looked around the room and frowned. "I don't even know where my phone is."

"You all right?" Daryl asked, reaching out and touching her shoulder. Relief flooded his chest as he scanned her. She didn't look sick; just worn out. He let his hand find her other shoulder. "Thought you was sick or dead."

Beth took a breath to speak, but instead, immediately broke down into sobs and collapsed into his chest. "My manager _died_ last night."

"Shit. Sorry." Daryl let his arms drape around her, then pulled them away when Beth pulled back to stare at him in disbelief.

"You haven't heard anything about what's going on?" Beth wiped some tears away blinked at him. "Like, nothing?"

Daryl shook his head. "Some. Gossip. We were slammed today." He noticed she was still wearing her dress slacks. "You _just_ gettin' home? What's happenin'?"

Beth nodded and struggled to choke out words. "It's some sort of flu. Everyone who gets infected _dies, like dead._ But they're not dead. I saw the police shoot a patient today. _"_ She knelt down and wrapped her arms around Yoshi. "The media have been calling me all day. I just started. Why are they asking _me_ what's going on? I'm not qualified to handle something like this." Beth knew she was babbling, but it felt good to get it out. "We have cases here in town. In the hospital. That's the woman who got shot- right there on the hospital stairs. Our doctors are quitting. They just don't come to work." She closed her eyes and took a breath. "Okay. Okay. It's done for today." She stood up and nodded. "Okay. I'm starving." She turned to the kitchen, but Daryl stopped her.

"You eaten today?"

Beth shook her head. "Not much. Have you? I'll just make-"

"Naw, you don't gotta cook tonight. Give me twenty minutes. I'll be back."

* * *

Daryl paused and listened to the table of suits in the pizza parlor. They were speaking in hushed tones about the super-flu outbreak and Daryl caught enough buzzwords to make him stop and listen in from behind a partition. "Airborne, maybe? Or else..." "...working remotely to prevent infection..." "Death toll will be up by tomorrow." "...calling in the Guard." "...evacuating Atlanta in a few days, probably."

Daryl's chest tightened. He paid for his pizza, picked up a six pack of beer, and drove back to Beth's. "Dinner," he announced as he let himself in again.

"Oh, yum," Beth cooed from the couch. She'd changed into sweatpants and looked positively frazzled as she watched news reports on TV.

Daryl cleared a spot on the coffee table and sat the pizza box down. "You goin' in to the hospital tomorrow?" he asked as a graphic of infected counties flashed on the screen. King County was in the thick of it. Daryl gave Yoshi a loose pepperoni and wiped his hand on his jeans.

"I have to go to work," Beth replied incredously as she pulled a piece of pizza free. "This is when they need me the most." She inhaled the slice and picked up another.

"Heard some guys say it's airborne."

Beth shook her head. "Maybe. They don't know. We're in a different building just off of the hospital, though," she said. "If you're worried that I'll get you sick-"

"Shut up," Daryl said, reaching for the remote and turning up the volume. "It's you."

Beth's work headshot and contact information flashed on the screen. "-our biocontainment procedures have been put in place to ensure patient and medical team safety. We urge the public to use basic illness prevention like covering coughs and washing your hands..." Beth's voice came from the TV.

Beth opened a beer. "It'll get worse when more people die. Those will be the questions tomorrow. Why are they dying? Have there been more attacks? Are your doctors really quitting?" She sank back into the couch cushions and took a long drink. "It's so bad. I wish I could do more there, but I can't. I'm just the marketing coordinator."

"If it gets too bad, we'll head out somewhere. You can come with me and Merle. We'll hit the woods and camp or somethin'." He almost regretted the offer as he imagined Beth out camping.

Suddenly Beth was sobbing and falling into him, landing with her wet cheeks pressed against his neck. She was trying to say something, but he couldn't understand a word. These were the times Daryl second, third, and fourth-guessed himself. Beth was funny and bubbly, sexy and tempting, but she was so young. For every time he'd wanted to ravish those pale pink lips, there was a moment he felt like he was taking advantage of her. The two extremes balanced out and he somehow managed to remain what felt like neutral toward her. Now he sighed and wrapped an arm around her, wondering desperately what he was supposed to do. "Hey."

Beth let the tears fall and nestled into Daryl's chest. "I'm scared," she said softly.

Daryl let his cheek rest on the top of her head. He didn't hate how she adjusted against him to get comfortable. "Everyone's scared." Part of him dove into a panic at how close she was, but a stronger portion wanted to be there for her. He wrapped his other arm around her shoulders.

"Even you?"

"Naw. I ain' scared of nothin'."

Beth peeked up at him and forced a smile through her tears. "I know something."

Daryl snorted. "What's that?"

"Me."

* * *

At midnight, Beth was fast asleep on the couch. Daryl let Yoshi out, then quietly took the empty beer bottles and pizza box out to the garbage. He glanced at Beth as he strolled back through the living room and wondered how heavy of a sleeper she was, and whether that was a good or bad thing since she lived alone.

When Yoshi licked at Beth's fingers and she stirred, Daryl whistled softly. "Yosh, come on," he called as he strode down the hall. Yoshi followed him into Beth's bedroom. "Go to bed," Daryl said, tossing a toy into the dog bed in the corner. Yoshi whined and cocked his head to the side. "Go to sleep?" Daryl tried. "Sleep. Bed time. Good night."

The dog snorted, then curled up in the bed.

"Good night," Daryl grinned. _Go figure_ _Beth wouldn't give her dog real commands._ "Smart boy." He knelt and scratched the dog behind the ears. Yoshi laid down his head, burying his nose under his tail. "All righ', then." Daryl turned to Beth's bed and pulled down the covers. The blonde hair covering the pillow case made him wrinkle his nose in horror. "How's this damn girl got any hair left?" he mumbled to the dog.

As he turned for the door, Daryl noticed the items littering the top of her dresser. Fancy perfume bottle, old jewelery box, some feathery earrings, a picture of her family farm, and a paper umbrella like they put in cocktails at McCarthy's pub. The toothpick was stained from whatever fruity cocktail it had been placed in. Daryl wondered why Beth kept it, but didn't bother putting too much thought into it.

Next he found her phone charger and phone and plugged it in next to her bed and headed to the living room. When he'd run out of tasks, he stalked out to the living room and watched Beth sleep. She was dead to the world, and he didn't want to wake her. Things at the hospital were clearly a nightmare, and sleep was the only escape she'd get. Daryl tilted his head and took a moment to appreciate her delicate features- her wrists, her slender fingers, her long neck. Things were surely going to get worse before they got better for her, and he hoped she was strong enough to face it.

Beth didn't stir when he slid his hands under her and easily lifted her into his arms. Taking care not to jostle her awake or bump her into the walls, Daryl carried her down the hall to her room. When he stepped into the bedroom, Yoshi raised his head and made a soft sound of concern. "She's all righ'," Daryl said softly. "Shh." The dog laid his head back down, but watched him closely.

Daryl laid Beth down in the bed and pulled the covers up to her waist. When she began to stir, Daryl quickly crossed the room and hit the light switch, praying she didn't wake.

"Don't leave," Beth mumbled sleepily. "Please."

 _So close._ Daryl leaned against the door frame."You gotta sleep."

"I don't want to be alone." The sliver of light shining in from the hallway shone directly on Beth's face, illuminating the blue of her eyes in the field of darkness. She blinked sleepily.

Daryl pursed his lips and hesitated in the doorway, hoping she'd fall back to sleep.

"Please," Beth said again, louder this time. Exhaustion hung on her, but images and stories from the hospital flashed through her head. "Just stay with me this one time. I'll be up all night if you don't." She sat up in bed. "Please, Daryl?"

Daryl lingered in the doorway, knowing damn well he couldn't tell her no after seeing her come apart earlier.

"Please."

"All righ'," Daryl grumbled. "Let me get the lights."


	10. Mic Check - One, Two

**Hello, peaches! Surprise, this is indeed a zombie story. I just wanted to see how things would play out if Beth and Daryl knew each other before it hit the fan. This won't follow the show directly – but it's not quite AU, either! Suggestions welcomed! Thanks so much for the reviews. If anyone wants an AU no walker story, let me know...  
**

* * *

Beth jerked awake and became immediately aware of how hard her heart was pounding. Something had woken her; something loud and close. _A hostile,_ she worried, lying as still as she possibly could. _How did it get in? Where's Yoshi?_ She squeezed her eyes shut and hoped whatever was lurking nearby would pass her over and spare her if she remained silent. When the sound occurred again, she let out her breath, giggled quietly to herself, and reached to the other side of the bed. It had taken some begging, but Daryl had begrudgingly agreed to stay the night. Now he was flat on his back beside her, snoring every few breaths. Beth smiled even more widely and wondered what Maggie would say. Beth could not say she knew the feeling of Daryl's lips on hers, but she could say she knew how it felt to share a bed with him. _Maggie would just die._

Beth scooted closed and gently laid her arm across Daryl's stomach. Being encircled in his embrace earlier had left her feeling safe, almost like when as a child she'd run to Maggie to keep her safe from whatever ghouls she'd imagined. _Now the monsters are real._ Beth shuddered and laid her head on Daryl's shoulder, immediately appreciating the human contact. Being alone had always bothered her, and now the eerie feeling was amplified by the outbreak and its ramifications. Having Daryl within arm's reach was a defense against the silence, the vulnerability, the unknown.

Daryl's arms were flung up over his head, but with a muffled "hmmm," he instinctively wrapped one around Beth and resumed snoring. The weight of his forearm on her shoulder was better than any security blanket she'd ever had, and Beth drifted back off into a pleasant sleep.

Hours later, when Beth woke in an empty bed twenty minutes before her alarm, she heard the jingle of Yoshi's leash and Daryl's soft voice coming from the living room. The sounds comforted her and she allowed herself to drift back to sleep to stave off the reality that she'd have to face when the day rolled around.

* * *

Daryl swore and glared at Merle. "That's my fucking hand. Watch it, dick!"

Merle continued to hammer at a corroded battery. "I don't know how else it's going to come out, princess." He wiped his brow and stared down into the engine. "How the hell was thing thing even running?"

A loud beeping shot through the garage. The brothers glanced around. The TV hanging from the ceiling was flashing a civil emergency screen and their cell phones were vibrating with the same alert.

"Kid go missing?" Merle wondered aloud.

"It's the outbreak," Daryl replied. He watched as the TV flipped from the warning screen to a local news anchor.

"Thanks for joing us," the man in the suit read. "Breaking news this afternoon in connection with the unidentified virus outbreak plaguing the east coast. The CDC has issued a statement urging Georgians to seek refuge from the outbreak in major cities. Regufee centers have been established in Atlanta, Savannah, Gainesville-"

"You're shittin' me," Merle drawled, taking a break from the engine to glance up at the TV.

"This comes after a strange development. We've received dozens of unconfirmed reports of infected persons becoming hostile and injuring, in some cases even killing their caregivers. Officials with the CDC say this is a new indication that the virus attacks the brain."

Daryl dropped his tools and turned to Merle. "We've gotta go."

"I ain' runnin from the flu," Merle scoffed. "Merle Dixon ain' takin' up in no refugee center."

"Not there," Daryl grumbled. "Hit the woods. A town's the worst place to be righ' now. Beth said everyone who gets sick dies." He pulled out his phone. "I gotta ask her what's-"

"She's on," Merle interrupted.

"Joining us with an urgent update from St. John's Hospital is Beth Greene, the hospital communications director. Beth, tell us the latest," the anchor said, nodding toward her.

The cameras switched to Beth, who was pale and looked nervous. "At the CDC's recommendation, we are evacuating patients and staff to medical centers in Atlanta. The evacuation is effective immediately and is already underway. We've set up a hotline for families to determine which Atlanta center their loved one has been transferred to."

"We gotta go," Daryl said again. He glared at his brother and for the twentieth time that day, wished Merle wasn't so stubborn. They'd be able to get more done and might be a decent team if he wasn't so damn bullheaded all the time.

"We've gotta get paid. I ain' just leavin' these cars. People gonna be rushin' in lookin' to take them." Merle had turned back to the engine and resumed hammering at the battery. "Son of a bitch," he snarled as he hammered. "We need another few hours, but sounds like we got a few minutes."

On the TV, Beth was nodding at the anchor as he asked another question. "So what can you tell us about reports of patient attacks on hospital staff?"

Daryl cringed as he watched Beth squirm and stumble for an answer. "Due to patient-hospital confidentiality, I can't comment on that."

The anchor popped off another question in anticipation of her answer. "The CDC is warning people to avoid the infected at all costs. Why is that?"

"I can confirm that as the virus runs its course, patients become hostile and are unable to reason. That's why everyone should head to the refugee centers," Beth answered. "If you run into an infected person on the street, don't stop and help them. Keep going to the refugee center."

"So if you are a parent with a sick child at home, what should you do?"

"The hospitals in Atlanta are accepting patients," Beth answered quickly. "We aren't advocating that anyone abandons anyone who's sick – just, just," she stuttered, "just stay away from the ones who are trying to hurt you."

The anchor touched his ear piece and nodded. "Thank you for your time, Beth. We're getting word now of National Guard action in Atlanta. We'll cut to live video of that now."

As Daryl watched the video of the National Guard vehicles rolling into Atlanta, his thoughts returned to Beth. "We've gotta get into the woods until this settles down. I gotta get Beth."

"You for real?" Merle exclaimed. "What, you in love with her? Don't think I didn't notice you didn't show up at the house last night." He snorted. "She'll be a pain in the ass. I ain' saying she wouldn't be nice to look at, but we don't know how long it'll take this shit to die down."

Daryl got on his bike. "You think she can make it on her own when shit hits the fan?" He kicked the bike to life. "Grab the gear. Grab my crossbow and meet me at Beth's.

* * *

Beth sat in the TV station, staring up at a monitor on the wall with the news team. Reporters and producers were hypothesizing what was happening and what would happen next, glued to the screen as the National Guard moved in and shot people on the street. The anchor who had just interviewed her began barking out orders and telling reporters to hit the road for Atlanta.

Beth had thought there'd be more time before things devolved into sheer pandemonium. The hospital had been a war zone the night before. When she'd gotten to her office, it was being used as a triage area for those who had been attacked by patients in the main medical building. The National Guard and the sheriff's office had assisted in the evacuation, shooting infected patients where they stood as others rushed the living out on stretchers.

As she left the hospital for the television station that morning, Beth had seen hostiles spill out of broken third story windows and splatter onto the concrete below. Law enforcement fired indiscriminately, and a deputy even briefly pointed a gun at her before she fell to her knees in terror.

The second the living had been loaded onto buses and shuttled away, the doors were chained, locking the infected and bitten inside. The hotline the hospital's board of directors had asked Beth to create was a sham. No one knew who had gone to Atlanta and who was locked inside to face their fate as a hostile. Besides, the phone lines were jammed and Beth hadn't been able to get a call through; not to Daryl or anyone home on the farm. Now she felt utterly alone despite being in a room full of people.

More gunshots and screams rang out from the TV. Reporters scrambled for camera gear as the images on the screen got more gruesome. Suddenly the noise faded to a high-pitched whine and Beth felt the room spin and fall away under her feet. The last thing she saw before fainting was a National Guard soldier cracking open a child's skull with the stock of his gun.


	11. Three Way Split

He was still a few blocks away from the hospital when Daryl smelled the smoke. Tall trees blocked his sight of the sky, but he saw the billowing black clouds as soon as he turned the corner. The difference between the streets was night and day: a postcard-worthy scene of a quiet small town street one moment and something out of a war movie the next. National Guardsmen patrolled the street, rifles in their hands. Behind them, the hospital and its auxillary buildings were burning.

"Get back," a guardsman growled as Daryl rolled up on his bike. "Area's under our control now. Turn around."

"My – I have someone in there," Daryl replied gruffly. He stared in disbelief at the scene. This morning his biggest problem had been a corroded battery holding up their work flow. _Now it's the god damn apocalypse._ He scanned the smaller builings and wondered desperately which one had been Beth's office. She couldn't have made it from the TV station back here before the fires started, he decided. "You seen a blonde girl come back here the last few minutes?"

"Dead or alive?"

"Alive!" Daryl replied in shock. The bike rolled forward a few inches as turned and took everything in again.

"No one alive is coming back here. Ain't no one in there. Not anymore," the guardsman replied, rasing his rifle. "You ain't getting in. You don't _want_ to get in there. They're all dead. If they ain't dead, they'll be dead soon." Gunshots peppered the air, and the guardsman and Daryl whipped their heads toward the medical compound. A door had been forced open and hostiles in bloody hospital gowns were stumbling out of the central medical building, their eyes wild as they reached out hungrily at the guards.

"Jesus," Daryl spat, leaning back as the guards posted at the building opened fire.

"I don't know how they keep busting out of there," the guard muttered. "They're strong for dead people."

Daryl had seen enough. "She ain't here, then."

"You'd better hope she isn't, brother," the guard sighed. "Get out of town while you can."

Daryl nodded, then took off for Beth's house.

* * *

The house had been in decent shape lately, and the men had been fairly proud of that. At the current moment Merle could not give a shit less about the state of his home at the moment. He tossed provisions together, dumping out drawers and pulling apart closets to find what he was looking for. Everything was packed everything into two large canvas bags. Merle's military training kicked right back in now that he needed it, and he was glad for it. Canteens. Extra clothes. Some canned food. First aid supplies. An extra set of combat boots. His baggie of the good stuff. Once it was buckled into the bag, he heaved it into the bed of the pick-up.

"Fuckin' walking dead," Merle grumbled to himself. "Gotta be shittin' me." He headed to the garage and pulled items down from shelves. Tent. Sleeping bags. Fishing poles. Tackle box. Cast iron skillet. He usually loved camping, but this wasn't going to be a typical trip when he'd get high and enjoy being back in the great outdoors. He snarled at nothing in particular and passed his bean bag board and bags. "I wish," he mumbled. He came across the small arsennal of hunting weapons the brothers kept. "Come to daddy," he purred, cleaning the shelves and loading every last shotgun shell into the pick-up.

When the truck seemed to be packed, Merle frowned. Sure, life had a funny way of kicking you when you're down, but he'd been on the top of his game lately with the shop and the house. He had a group of decent guys he hunted and bowled with and he'd stayed out of trouble. It felt good to have his life straightened out. Daryl seemed proud of him, though he'd never say it. The Dixons weren't mushy and touchy-feely, and Merle liked it like that. The dread creeping over him wasn't about the walking dead or what perils they'd face, but about the very real danger that he'd spiral back down into his drug-fueled stupor again. He didn't want it, but he could taste the bitterness on his tongue. "Fuckin' dead assholes," he hissed as he went back inside to grab a pack of cigarettes.

* * *

"Do you remember your name? Hey, stay with us. No, no, no, don't sleep. Hey."

Beth slowly opened her eyes. Beautiful people she'd never met were leaning over her wearing identical expressions of concern. "Do you remember your name?" someone asked again.

"Beth." She tried to sit up, but everyone pushed her back down.

"Take it slow," the anchor said. "You fainted, Beth. You're at the TV station, remember?"

Beth nodded. "Yeah. How embarrassing." She turned her head to the side slowly and found they'd laid her on a long conference table in the news room. "I'm okay." Slowly sitting up, she wondered how long she'd been out. The same images of soldiers shooting civilians were playing on the TV, so she couldn't tell if it had been a minute or an hour.

"Feel free to stay here as long as you need," a woman the same age as Beth said. "It'll be a little hectic here, but you don't need to go out there and deal with god knows what when you've just fainted." She smiled kindly as the others went back to what they were doing.

"I need to go home," Beth said, swinging her legs off the table. She regretted the move as soon as her head began to spin.

"Yeah, I've fainted before. I hate seeing blood," the blonde said. "Here. Just take it slow. Sit for a while. Get your blood pumping again. I'm not saying I'm holding you prisoner here, but you can't leave just yet. Deal?"

Beth frowned, then nodded. "Okay." She sat down in a computer chair, laid her head back, and closed her eyes.

"You've been out for a few minutes," the blonde said slowly. "We've got reporters all over town. The Guard took over the hospital. It's on fire. I'm sorry."

Unphased, Beth replied, "I'm not surprised. There are so many hostiles there now." She opened her eyes and bit her lip. "Oh, please don't say that on the news."

"We don't have to, unfortunately," the blonde replied. "One of our crews is there. They've got live pictures of it on air now."

"Ugh," Beth groaned.

"I'm the assignment editor, by the way," the woman continued. "Mary."

"Beth."

"I need to get back to the phones, but yell if you need something. I'll try to keep an eye on you to make sure you don't go down again. You should try to stomach a little of the footage. It's always harder to see this stuff in person," Mary said. "You think watching a kid die on TV is tough – you aren't going to make it out there as stuff gets worse. The second you leave that door, it gets real."

Beth closed her eyes. If all went according to plan, she'd get home to the farm, away from people, away from everything, and not have to see anything more.

* * *

" _Beth."_

Yoshi yipped happily and danced around Daryl's feet as he let himself in.

"In a minute," Daryl grumbled. "Beth!" He stormed through the house. "Beth. _Beth?"_ When he was certain she wasn't home, he groaned and plopped down on a chair. "The hell is she?" he pondered aloud. Everything was just so in all of the rooms, so Daryl was certain she hadn't packed and hit the road. His phone hadn't received any messages all morning, and he couldn't get any to send, either. He hadn't seen hide nor hair of Beth since he left her house that morning. _There's no reason she'd have stayed at the TV station. She clearly wasn't at the hospital._ _Think. Think. Fuck._ They'd left a note at the shop instructing Beth to go home if she happened to show up there looking for them. Daryl didn't have a single reason she'd need to go anywhere else in town. Frustration boiled under his skin and he knew the only remedy was finding the damn girl. _Merle's right. Girl's a pain in the ass. Could be out of here by now,_ he thought sullenly to himself as he picked at a thread sticking out of a hot pink throw pillow.

Yoshi scratched on the door and whined.

"Fine," Daryl snapped, letting the dog out into the front yard. As he watched the dog sniff around, he realized in relief that she'd have to come back to the house. Beth loved the dog more than anything and wouldn't leave him behind. Daryl wrestled with his choices: stay at Beth's and wait for her to come home for Yoshi, or venture out and try to figure out where she'd ended up.

* * *

Beth was taking a few steps around the newsroom, testing herself before trying to leave, when a news crew came barrelling in from the attached garage.

" _Jack's bit!"_ someone screeched.

Mary jumped to her feet. "Beth, come here." She wrapped her arm around Beth and dragged her to the other edge of the room as the crew laid a man in a shirt and tie on the table Beth had just been on.

" _Jack,"_ someone cried.

"The hospital lady," a photographer called, motioning for her. "Come here! Help us!"

Beth pressed her self against the wall. "I'm not – I can't. I'm not a doctor."

"Don't you work at the hospital?" the photographer snapped. "He's bleeding out. _Please."_

Beth stared at the man, who was drenched in blood and writhing in agony. Her stomach churned, but she couldn't force herself to look away. Muscles and veins were hanging out of his neck, draining blood onto the table beneath him. It looked comically similar to what she'd seen in gory horror movies.

"She's from marketing, she doesn't know anything." Mary replied frantically. "Call 911."

"Lines are tied up and 911 isn't answering," the anchor said quickly, slamming down his phone. "We just reported it, now it's confirmed."

As people scrambled to stop the bleeding, Beth stood frozen in place.

" _Jack, Jack, no,"_ a reporter cried as a photographer hopped onto the table and began chest compressions. With each sickening crunch coming from his chest, more blood sprayed from his neck.

" _Stop it,"_ Mary cried. "He's gone. He lost too much blood. Oh, my god." She fell to her knees and covered her face with her hands.

Beth knew what was coming next. Instinct told her to find her purse, get her car keys, and run, but a morbid curiosity held her to the spot. Her tongue had turned to lead and though her inner self was screaming for her to warn everyone to kill the corpse's brain, she became a silent observer and let everything play out. The news crew was reacting in different ways. Someone had punched a hole in the drywall while others were gathered around the body. A door slammed as someone hurried away, away from the pooling blood under their former colleague.

 _Get away from it,_ Beth's mind screamed. Her lips didn't move. Her heard pounded in her ears and she wondered if she'd faint again. _You'll get eaten,_ Beth convinced herself as she took deep breaths and focused on staying awake.

When the corpse jerked into a sitting position just a moment later, a woman shrieked and a man cheered. "Jack! We thought-" His words were cut short when Jack's reanimated corpse caught him by the throat and pulled a handful of flesh free.

The screaming drowned out her own thoughts. At last, Beth stumbled away from the wall and snatched her purse from a shelf. She dug for her keys and staggered down the hallway toward the front door. The screams were joined by banging and crying, but she didn't stop. Tears began to stream down Beth's face as she gasped for air. She tumbled out the front door and landed on her knees on the sidewalk. " _No,"_ she cried out, turning her eyes skyward. " _No!"_

* * *

An old woman was shuffing across the street in her slippers, taking her sweet time as old ladies were wont to do. A pick-up rumbled toward her, and she turned to face it, cocking her head in interest at the sound. Her expressionless face stared blankly toward the oncoming traffic, not sensing imminent danger.

Merle stopped and honked. "I ain' got all day. Get movin'. C'mon, granny." When the woman began dragging her pink slippers toward him, he swore. It was one of the hostiles he'd seen on TV. "Move," he called out the window, hoping she - _it?_ -would wander out of his way. Though the end of the world was surely upon them, he didn't want to hit someone's grandmother with his truck. "Move!"

The hostile snarled and snapped her dentures together, picking up speed.

"Fuck it," Merle growled, putting the truck back into drive and stomping on the gas. He held eye contact with the body as he sped toward it. When the woman hit the windshield and rolled off onto the road behind him, he slowed and glanced in the mirror. Nausea immediately swept over him. War was one thing, but running down an old woman was nasty. He flung the door open and wretched onto the pavement. He'd just wiped his mouth when a gurgling caught his attention. The old woman was slowly getting to her feet, staring at him the entire time. One of her arms was broken and jagged bones jutted out of her shoulder. A rib poked through her nightgown and her face was now bloodier than before. Yet she still reached out and snarled as she inched toward Merle.

"No, _no,"_ Merle groaned. "Fuck this shit." He slammed the door and took off down the street, his hands trembling for the first time in his life.


	12. Wild Goose Chase

Merle's knuckles were white on the steering wheel. Blood from the hostile he'd hit was splattered on the hood of his truck; the droplets as red as his bloodshot eyes. He'd managed to avoid several more of the dead and was now keeping his eyes peeled, praying he didn't have to run down any more on his way to meet Daryl at Beth's house.

Every way that led from the Dixon house to Beth's wound through either a residential area, by a school, or old folks' home. An old woman was one thing, but a kid hostile? _Hell no_. Instead, he took his chances and drove through the business district.

How so many of the fuckers had already died and stumbled back onto the streets, Merle had no idea. Despite military service and bad trips, he'd never seen anything like this. An hour ago the streets had been clear. Now dozens of corpses had popped up. They appearing from parking lots, cafes with the doors propped open, and parking garages. Merle touched his pistol to make sure it was nearby.

He and Daryl could have been setting up a tent by now. That damn girl had vexed Daryl pretty good, but Merle couldn't deny that he was waiting around for her, too.

* * *

Beth walked to her Jeep, which was parked a few blocks from the TV station. Her eyes scanned back and forth for hostiles nonstop. Every sound and movement made her jump. Though the block seemed quiet, Beth knew better than to let her guard down. She wished desperately she'd grabbed the pistol from her dresser that morning, but instead, it was still in her bedroom, loaded and forgotten. Instead of being an armed woman ready to protect herself, she felt like a scared little girl. Her skirt suit made it challenging to run, so she pulled off the blazer and let it drop on the street behind her. With her heels in her hand, she crept toward where she'd parked.

Beth turned a corner and halted, her breath catching in her lungs. Ten or twelve hostiles were wandering aimlessly in the street, blocking her path to the Jeep. Their uniforms indicated they were what was left of the police force. As she watched in horror, more uniformed hostiles spilled out of an open doorway at the police station. They didn't seem to see her, so Beth slowly backed away until she was safely behind the building again.

She leaned against the wall and panted. The town was small, but it'd take much too long to walk home. Any minute out here was a minute too long. Beth peeked around the corner and nearly screamed when a hostile turned its head and reached toward her. She sprinted back toward the TV station, hoping they'd let her in. Half of the block was behind her when she remembered that everyone in the newsroom was probably infected.

"Oh my god," Beth panted aloud as she pounded down the street, no destination in mind. She glanced behind her and choked a horrified sob as the dead police officers hobbled toward her. Deciding to abandon the Jeep and try her chances of getting to her house on foot, she turned and took a back alley, diving behind a dumpster for cover and to catch her breath. Practicality finally took over and she dropped her heels and tore off her hospital badge. _The lighter the better,_ she reassured herself.

The shuffling and groaning grew nearer. Beth peeked out and saw the group pass the alleyway and keep lurching ahead, not knowing their prey had evaded them. She did not smile or sigh in relief. Instead, Beth jumped to her feet and began running.

* * *

It only took fifteen minutes of waiting for Beth at her house before Daryl snarled, stood up, and resolved to comb the town for the damn girl. He found a notebook and Sharpie and scrawled _Stay here. We'll come back for you. -D._ He taped it to the front door and stared at Yoshi. "Can't take you on the bike. She'll be back." Yoshi made a content dog noise as Daryl rubbed his ears. "Wait for Beth." He pulled the door shut, locked it for good measure, and stomped back down the drive to his bike.

* * *

Merle put the truck in park in the middle of a street. He rubbed his eyes in disbelief. A mob of the dead were clogging up the road in front of the police station. He recognized some of the officers and took a deep breath to steady himself. Glancing over his shoulder to make sure no one was behind him, he reversed and turned down another road. He'd seen a few other cars out and about, all heading toward the freeway and to the refugee centers. He wanted to stop them and ask if they hadn't seen the news, but he let them go. Did he have a better solution to offer? No.

" _Fuck!"_ Merle barked as a body launched itself into the street in front of him. He slammed on the brakes and the truck fishtailed slightly, bumped the body, and came to rest cock-eyed in the road. Merle reached for his pistol and peered over the hood. A girl in a black skirt was writhing on the ground. She appeared stunned. Merle considered getting out to help her until he noticed she was bloody and barefoot. "Fuckin' hostile," Merle grumbled, sticking his pistol back in the crack between the seats. He put the truck in gear.

"No!" a female's voice came. "Stop!"

Merle slammed it back into park and jumped out of the truck. "You ain' one of them? What the hell you doin'? Tryin'a kill yourself?" His jaw fell open when Beth rolled over and propped herself up. "What the shit?"

"This is a one way! You were driving the wrong way," Beth panted. The collision had knocked the wind out of her but she felt okay otherwise.

"What the hell you doin'?"

"Going home," Beth replied, getting slowly to her feet. "There's a herd of those things behind me. I couldn't get to the Jeep." She gasped and pointed behind the truck. "Go. Go. Go." She pointed at a group of hostiles lurching toward them.

Merle didn't need to see them. The groans were growing louder. "Get in," he barked.

* * *

The bike had always been loud, and on purpose. If people didn't see the bike when Daryl was out and about, at least they'd hear it. That defense seemed to be turning against him, as the hostiles turned their heads and hobbled his way as soon as they heard the bike. Daryl flew down the streets, looking for Beth's Jeep. If he found the Jeep, he'd find Beth.

A few minutes later he rolled into the downtown district. The amount of hostiles roaming around shocked him. They were young and old, fit and fat, and all had one thing in common: huge gaping flesh wounds. He imagined they'd been killed as humans, died and came back and hostiles. "Shit," he breathed, wishing he'd gotten a pistol before he'd started out for Beth.

He turned a corner to lose the hostiles and spotted the white Jeep parked on the street. "Beth!" Daryl called. Hope swelled inside of him. He rolled up to the car and peered in, expecting her to be holed up inside. Empty seats greeted him. His stomach sank. The TV station was only a few blocks away. _She never left the station_. _She's taking shelter there. Smart girl._ Though he wanted to believe that, Daryl checked the face of every hostile on the way to the TV station, praying hers wasn't among them.


	13. Sign O the Times

"Beth," Daryl hissed as he crept through the TV station. He could hear groaning from the main studio, but held out hope that Beth was taking refuge in another room. A table lamp was serving as his only weapon. He held it aloft as he pushed open door after door. Each empty storage closet or conference room left him feeling less optimistic. A door creaked and Daryl cocked back the lamp. "Beth?"

A gnashing sound was the only response.

Daryl pursed his lips. _Yeehaw. Here goes._ He turned the corner, meeting a small group of hostiles head-on. He swore and struck out, landing a blow in the first hostile's cheek. "Beth!" he hollered. "Beth!" The hostiles before him were familiar. As he swung the base of the lamp at them, he realized they were the local news crew. Beth wasn't among them, and if they'd killed her, she'd be right here with them. _Where the fuck is she?_

Daryl easily smashed a pretty young hostile's head into the wall. The lead anchor snarled and snapped its jaws at Daryl, coming inches from his cheek. "Argh!" Daryl threw haymakers left and right, connecting every time. Each blow knocked the hostile backward, but didn't even stun it. A smaller male hostile lunged forward and caught Daryl's shirt. He swore and ripped at the bloody hand. While Daryl was distracted, the anchor collided with him and they both fell to the ground. Crying out in horror, Daryl gave the anchor a hard kick and rolled him away. The remaining hostiles fell over the anchor and crashed to the floor, giving Daryl just enough time to hop to his feet and haul ass back to the door.

The front door snapped shut with a bang. Daryl sank to the sidewalk and covered his face with his hands. Anguish hit him out of nowhere. With the hostiles everywhere and no sign of Beth, he was at a loss for what to do.

* * *

Beth's face fell when Merle parked his pickup in front of her house. "He's not here." She turned to Merle. "He's not here," she repeated in concern.

"I heard ya. Must be out lookin' for you. Why were you still downtown, anyway?" Merle turned off the ignition and sat back in the driver's seat, letting his hands fall into his lap.

"They brought a cameraman back to the station. He'd been bitten," Beth replied, immediately and involuntarily replaying the bloodspray in her mind. She frowned and looked out the window. "You should stay here until Daryl comes. I'll wait with you before I leave."

Merle raised an eyebrow. "You miss the memo, Barbie? My bro says you're comin' with us."

"I can't," Beth said in shock. "I have to go back to the farm. My family's there. I haven't been able to get anyone on the phone. They don't even know I'm alive. They're probably watching everything on TV and worrying," she sniffled.

Merle sighed and rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Well, Daryl will be back here. I'll come in and make sure you don't get yourself killed before he gets here." He followed Beth up the walk and watched her ass as it moved in her tight skirt. Guilt washed over him and he sneered. The world had been in descent for an hour and he was already perving on his brother's girl. "It's gonna be a damn long fuckin' apocalypse," Merle grumbled.

* * *

He wasn't giving up. He was starting over, Daryl convinced himself as he headed back to Beth's house. If she was still at the station, he'd have found her. Should she have been bitten, she'd have been with the other hostiles on the street. Beth was nowhere to be seen, so she must have found the note he left on her door and she must be at home. "Please," Daryl mumbled to himself. "Be at the god damn house."

Hostiles were still following the motorcycle through town; drawn to the sound of the pipes like moths to a flame. It seemed like more were generating by the minute. Once he got to Beth's, he knew he wouldn't have long.

" _Help! Please, help me!"  
_  
Daryl stopped and glanced around for the source of the small voice. It wasn't Beth, but it was a woman.

The voice cried out again, and its owner staggered into sight. A woman in her forties or fifties was jogging down the street, drenched in sweat and nearly hyperventilating. She wore a tattered green cardigan and sweatpants. " _Please!"_

"I can't take you," Daryl called. "Gettin' someone else. Ain' got room."

"They're probably dead. Everyone's dead," the woman panted. She doubled over, bracing herself on her knees. Sweat rolled down her cherry red cheeks. "I don't know where to go. I don't drive." She glanced behind her and gasped. "They're coming. Please, if you won't take me, where will I go? I'll die here."

"Don't go downtown. Go home. Lock yourself inside," Daryl said.

The woman continued toward him. "I'm just so tired from running. Please." As she got closer, Daryl saw the bloody bandage wrapped around her forearm.

"You bit?" Daryl snapped. "You infected?"

The woman's face betrayed her. "No."

Daryl kicked the bike into gear and swerved around her.

"Please!" the woman shrieked from behind him.

Daryl steadied himself with a breath and counted down the blocks until he'd be at Beth's. _What if she's infected?_ He couldn't answer that question. Beth had to be okay. He'd taken care of her this far and he'd be damned if a dead person was going to take her down.

* * *

"Here, have a beer," Beth offered, handing Merle a bottle as she rummaged through the fridge. "That doesn't seem worth taking along. It's not a long trip to the farm."

"Happily," Merle mumbled, taking the bottle and sinking into her couch. "This is bullshit timing. Believe it or not, I had a date tonight."

Beth smiled and bounced back into the living room. "Who? With who? Where are you goin'?"

"Trying Daryl's approach. We're goin' for drinks." He groaned. " _Were_ going."

"Oh, after this is over, you can go on the date, and I'll help you. Like what to wear. Where to go. Don't go to drinks first. That was just a dumb thing we did. I didn't think it was a date."

Merle held up his hands and pointed to his jeans. "Wait. What's wrong with this? I ain' wearin' no damn suit."

Beth made a face. "Those are your mechanic clothes."

"I'm a mechanic."

"Ugh!"

"You ugh."

Beth stood and threw her hands in the air. "You Georgia men are so stubborn!"

"You're too fancy for my kind. I ain' takin' date advice from you," Merle scoffed as Beth shrugged and strolled down the hallway.

"What do I need to take on the road up to Atlanta?" Beth asked as she dragged a suitcase out to the living room. "Clothes. Toiletries. Food. Yoshi's leash. Dog food. Gun."

"Gun?" Merle repeated in surprise. " _You_ got a gun?"

Beth nodded and grew quiet.

"Sure this is Georgia, but _you?"_

"I never thought I needed one until I worked at the club," Beth muttered, turning back to her bag.

Merle's lip curled. "I weren' never gonna hurt ya- I,"

"Not _you,_ " Beth snapped. "I dealt with annoying people like you all the time. It's the ones who followed you to your car and back to your dorm that were the problem. The ones the managers sold my phone number to." Chills rushed down her arms. "One of the creeps was mad I wouldn't take my clothes off." She trailed off and crossed her arms. "So I got a gun."

Merle nodded and let the words soak in. _People are shitty._ Guilt simmered in his chest. The damn girl had been followed home, and here he'd teased and harassed her every weekend he'd seen her dealing blackjack at the club. _Of course you did. You're a Dixon like your father._ "Bring it. Bring the gun," he said after an awkward silence. "You ain' got no campin' supplies? Tools?"

"Oh, I won't need to camp," Beth replied. "I told you I'm going up to the farm."

"You ain' gonna make it," Merle growled as he finished his beer and helped himself to another in the fridge. "Roads will be backed up. People will abandon their cars. Only bring what you can carry."

"You can drop me off at my Jeep. It'll be fine," Beth replied, nodding to steel herself. "That's my plan. It'll work. It'll be fine." She knew it wouldn't be fine and that Merle was right. The roads to the city were blocked during the hospital evaluation that morning. She was young, but she wasn't stupid. The odds of her making it to the farm by herself were probably slim to none, but she didn't know what else to do. Beth had never camped. Survival skills had seemed silly to her. Now she was the fool with no plan.

"Denial won't keep you alive, Barbie. Time to toughen up." Merle stared at the girl and wondered how Daryl put up with her naive pie-in-the-sky point of view. "Why'd you get the gun?"

"I wanted to be safe," Beth replied, annoyed to be back on the topic. "I didn't want anyone to mess with me anymore."

"Good," Merle said. "Can you use it if someone tries to take your supplies?"

Beth hesitated, then nodded. "I guess. I think so."

"Hesitation will get a pretty girl like you killed or worse." Merle narrowed his eyes at her. "Don't give me that deer in the headlights look. Ain' no one out there going to have your best interest in mind. They'll want what you've got, and what they can do to you."

Chills rolled down Beth's arms again. "Stop. I'm just-"

"You ain' gonna make it to the farm!" Merle snapped. "Your best bet's with us. If you want to live, you'll come with us. I ain' babysittin', but Daryl will." He watched her face fall. "There's your new plan. You listen to me about what I know and maybe, _just maybe,_ I'll let you pick my clothes and all that shit for my date with Stella."

Beth's couldn't help but smile. "Okay," she conceded. "I'll stay with you until I find a way to get to the farm. Then I'll help you lock down this lady."

Merle rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Whatever."

* * *

Human voices drifted across the quiet residential street. Movement was visible through a sunny yellow house's front window. A hostile banged against the screen door across the street. _Food._ It snarled as the door kept it trapped inside. It ran into the door a second time, only to be knocked backward again. _Food!_ It smashed into the door time after time, the instinct to eat driving it mad. A second hostile heard the commotion and stumbled forward onto to the porch. _Food?_ It walked blindly into the door, giving no reaction when it ran face-first into the screen. The voices continued to carry. _Food._

* * *

Fifteen minutes had passed. Merle was sharpening a hunting knife as Beth paced the living room, glancing out the open windows and door with every lap.

"Sit your skinny ass down. He'll be here. Things ain' that bad yet. Daryl can handle himself," Merle drawled in a bored tone.

"You don't think this is bad?" Beth exclaimed. "I saw -" she shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut.

"Get used to it," Merle replied. "Your hands won' be clean once this really gets goin', Missy."

Beth shuddered. She'd finally accepted that her first stop wouldn't be the farm. They'd see what the roads were like, camp when they needed to, and eventually make it home. She tightened her ponytail and continued pacing. Beth was ready, clad in jeans and boots and slathered in sunscreen. Her gun was in its holster on her belt. She prayed that she wouldn't have to use it.

Commotion outside caught their attention. Yoshi jumped up onto his hind legs and looked out the window, barking and snarling.

"Shh, be quiet, Yosh," Beth hissed, joining the dog at the window.

One of her elderly neighbors had wandered out into his driveway and knocked over his trash can. His wife wasn't far behind him.

"Mr. and Mrs. Wauron," Beth exclaimed. "They must not know what's going on!" She hurried out the front door as Merle snarled after her, "Stay in the house!"

"Mrs. Wauron? Are you okay? You should go back inside and turn on your TV. Have you called your son? Maybe he can come pick you up," Beth said as she strode across the street.

When Mr. Wauron growled and lifted his head, a cold sweat broke out on the back of Beth's neck. Mr. Wauron had a gaping wound on his throat and dead, cloudy eyes. Mrs. Wauron had been ill, Beth recalled. The elderly couple dragged their feet against the pavement and reached out toward her, snarling and gnashing their teeth.

"Merle! Hostiles!" She turned to run back to her house, but a blur of orange fur caught her attention. "Yoshi!" she cried.

Merle stomped down Beth's front steps. "I said get your ass back in here!" he snapped loudly. They hadn't even left her house and Beth was already getting herself into trouble. _Gonna make for an exciting trip, that's for sure,_ Merle thought in annoyance. He pulled out his pistol and aimed for the nearest hostile, but Beth was in the way. She bobbed back and forth, frantically trying to grab her dog.

"Yoshi, no, _Yoshi,_ " she hissed, snatching for his collar. The dog evaded her and launched his twenty pounds of sheer determination at one of the hostiles. Its knees crumbled and Mr. Wauron's corpse fell to the ground. The dog growled and barked, batting at the hostile's outstretched hand with his paws.

"Damn it! Get out of _the way!"_ Merle yelled. When the female hostile caught Beth by her ponytail, Merle lowered the gun and sprinted to the street. "You dumb bitch," he yelled as he kicked the hostile in the stomach hard enough to knock her away. He shot her in the middle of the forehead. It stopped thrashing and fell still.

Yoshi was still jumping back and forth, aggravating the hostile on the ground. It crawled toward the dog, snapping its jaw and snarling back. Beth reached for the dog, but he wriggled out of her grasp again.

Merle pulled the trigger again and the hostile fell still. Beth was sighing in relief when he turned on her, gun in hand. "How _stupid_ are you? I said to stay in the house. I said to get out of the way."

Beth cringed. "I'm sorry, I couldn't leave-"

"It's a fuckin' dog," Merle snapped, pointing the pistol at Yoshi. "Do I need to kill the dog so you don't get yourself killed?"

" _No!"_ Beth screamed, lunging at Merle's arm and knocking it away. The impact was hard enough to knock the gun loose from his grip. He caught the gun, but pulled the trigger in the process. Beth screamed a split second after the gunshot echoed through the neighborhood. The next few seconds were an overload of the senses. A sharp pain caught Merle in the cheek as the dog emitted a high pitch yelp. A flash of orange fur shot off down the street, and the rumbling of a motorcycle drew near. Beth was screaming for the dog and sprinting down the street after him.

"I'll leave your ass!" Merle called. Judging by the way the spooked dog was running, the shot had missed. He groaned and rubbed his cheek. He'd slapped her, but he couldn't blame her. Hitting the dog was never his intention. He'd just wanted to knock some sense into the girl. Now she was running down the street, not knowing what was ahead, and all after a dog.

"What are you _doing?"_ Daryl's voice came. He'd seen a skirmish between his brother and Beth, heard the gunshot, and saw Beth take off.

"Go get her," Merle snarled. "She's off after that stupid dog."

Daryl rode down the street and caught up with Beth. "Hostiles coming down the street behind me. We gotta go."

"He tried to shoot Yoshi!" Beth cried, tears streaming down her face as she ran. "He's scared! I have to catch him!"

Daryl stopped the bike. "Get on. We ain' got time."

The words stung. "He's my dog," Beth said in disbelief. "He's _mine._ I can't leave him out here." She jogged through a front yard and ignored Daryl's calls. "Yoshi!"

Daryl glanced over his shoulder. The first of the hostiles were approaching. Down the block, Merle was firing off shots. _Pop._ A hostile fell dead. _Pop_. Another. _Pop. Pop. Pop._

"Yoshi!" Beth yelled, glancing around wildly. _Great. Now the shots will run him off._ The dog was small, but not small enough to disappear entirely. "Yoshi!"

" _Beth,"_ Daryl called, his voice sharp. As she disappeared into a backyard, he got off of his bike and jogged after her. " _Get back here now!"_ he yelled after her. He wondered if trying to keep that damn girl in check was how parenting felt. He suddenly understood the whining parents that came into the garage.

Yoshi poked his head out from under a picnic table and whined as Beth approached.

"Hey!" Beth cooed. "Come here, baby. You're okay!"

The dog crept out from under the table, his tail between his legs.

"Yes, come here!" Beth sang, kneeling down and pulling him into her arms. He seemed to be uninjured. She buried her face in his fur and hugged him. "Don't run away again!"

" _Beth!"_

She looked up just in time to see Daryl barrel past her and smash a lawn chair into a hostile. The ripped screen of the porch was the only explanation she needed. She scrambled to her feet, hoisted Yoshi up over her shoulder, and took off for her house.

As Daryl ended the hostile with a few kicks to the temple, fury boiled in his gut. Beth was going to get herself bitten. He dropped the plastic chair and ran to the street, where Beth was casually strolling down the sidewalk with the dog in her arms. He grumbled as he got on his bike and made sure nothing was stumbling out of a house toward her.

Down the street, Merle was standing in the bed of the pickup, reloading his pistol. The hostiles were turning up in droves. "How," he fired a shot, "the fuck," another shot, "did so many," _pop, "_ of these," _pop, "_ bastards," _pop,_ "turn already?"

Beth showed up before Daryl did. She flung open the pickup door and dove into the cab.

"Where's Daryl?" Merle asked. _What a shit show._ The sound of the bike rolling down the street answered that. "Great. Time to go," Merle said, firing off a few last shots before getting beside the driver's seat and starting the truck.

"You're leaving Daryl out there on the bike?" Beth exclaimed.

"He'll be fine," Merle called. He leaned out the window and looked back at his brother. "Which way we goin?"

"Up 75," Daryl replied. "Go!" As pissed as he was at Beth for the stunt she pulled in running after the dog, a smile tugged at the corners of his lips when the girl turned back and waved at him through the pickup window. _That damn girl._


	14. Fireside

"It don't go there. It don't go there, either."

Beth wiped sweat from her face and let out a puff of air. "I've never done this before. I don't know where it goes." She reached for a tent pole on the ground and the one she'd just tried to put together tumbled apart and landed with a _clang_ on the ground. She scrunched her mouth to the side and stared at the poles.

She and the Dixon brothers hadn't made it far out of town before the traffic had come to a standstill. People were milling around the cars, chatting, worrying, distracting themselves. Being around so many people had made the brothers nervous, so after an hour of sitting on the highway, they'd turned back, loaded the motorcycle into the back of the pick-up, and taken a back gravel road north instead. The hope was to be able to take backroads to the Greene farm. Beth was unfamiliar with the terrain, but tried her best to navigate. The trip had been uneventful and fairly quiet, as both Merle and Daryl were crabby at being squeezed into the cab with Beth and Yoshi between them.

"How about I just do it," Daryl grumbled, securing his poles and reaching for their fallen mates.

"No. I want to help!" Beth exclaimed, clutching a pole to her chest. "You said you wanted to teach me how to do stuff."

"Yeah, back when it was hangin' paintin's and replacin' shower heads." Daryl snatched the poles from the ground and quickly snapped them together. He held the poles with one hand and extended the other back toward Beth. "I need that one." He waited, then turned and rolled his eyes. Beth had wandered off and was throwing a stick for Yoshi to fetch. "I thought you wanted to learn?" he called. "Gimme that."

"Oops." Beth jogged over and handed off the pole. She cocked her head and watched Daryl snap the frame of the tent together. "You weren't explaining what you were doing. I thought you were just doing that thing where you do it yourself."

"Pull the fabric up over these," Daryl said, unfurling the canvas and tossing it at her.

"I can't reach," Beth replied without touching the material.

"You don't need to. It'll guide itself."

"You may as well just do it," Beth replied with a giggle. "You're mad. You'll tell me I'm not doing it right and you'll get madder."

Daryl scowled and grabbed the fabric himself. "Fine."

"Fine because you know I'm right?" Beth's face broke into a wide smile as Daryl tugged the material up over the poles. Ignoring the knife and gun on his belt and the crossbow setting a few feet away, it felt like she was back at home with Daryl taking care of what needed to be done. He always worked silently, even when she tried to chat with him. Occasionally he'd step back from a project and swear before trying something different. Today he easily pulled the tent together, then reached up to adjust a flap.

Warm affection flooded Beth's senses and she reached out and touched his sides lightly. When he jumped and twitched away, she giggled. Her suspicions had been confirmed. Daryl Dixon was ticklish.

" _Stop,"_ Daryl snapped. He narrowed his eyes at her. "Quit screwin' 'round." He turned back to the tent and ignored his conflicting thoughts. As much as he wanted to tickle her back and perhaps end up on the ground together, he knew that getting the tent pitched and fire built was more important. When he felt the fluttering of her fingers at his ribs again, he spun and snatched her wrists in his hands.

Beth squeaked in surprise, then giggled again. _There are those teeth_ , Daryl thought as Beth laughed in his face. _Those perfect white teeth._ The apples of the girl's cheeks were pink and he wondered if it was the heat or how close they were. _She ain't flustered over me,_ he thought hastily. _Stop._ He realized he'd been holding her arms in front of him and staring at her with what was probably a stupid look on his face for too long. Beth had stopped laughing and was looking at him with a small smile and her brows set in a quizzical expression.

"Don't – don't screw 'round 'til it's safe," Daryl replied lamely, letting her hands drop from his. He watched Beth's face fall ever so slightly and wondered what she'd been expecting.

"Oh. I know," Beth replied in disappointment.

"You two bickerin' like an old married couple _again?"_ Merle drawled as he sauntered back to camp.

"We ain' bickerin'," Beth replied as Yoshi trotted over and dropped a stick at her foot. She reached down and threw it again, smiling again as the dog bounded off through the trees. "Coast clear?"

Merle nodded once. "Yes ma'am." He tucked his gun back into his waistband. "Unless we get visitors from the farm a few miles up the road. Ain' no way they're infected." He took a breath and cracked his neck. His shoulders and back were tight. Stress did terrible things to his mind and body, and he was feeling the anxiety boil under the surface.

"So it's just like camping for tonight then, at least," Beth said, nodding. Nothing could erase the horrors of the afternoon, but hunkering down in the woods tonight was a relief. They'd escaped the hostiles and their terrible dead eyes, and tomorrow they'd reach the farm. Looking on the bright side had always been her strongest trait. "Cooking over a fire. Sleeping under the stars. You know this will be fun!"

Merle raised an eyebrow at Daryl. "Ya hear that, baby bro? This is _fun._ " He turned and gave a cruel grin to Beth. "Oh, baby girl, if you think this is fun, just wait until shit gets worse." The old woman's bloody corpse flashed through his mind. He heard the sound she made when he hit her with the truck. He grunted and gave his head a sharp shake, hoping to erase the image. "This ain' no game. You ain' had to do the nasty shit to get us here." He took a step toward Beth, but stopped when he noticed Daryl take a step in front of her. Beth's wide eyes blinked in response, but she didn't speak.

Merle snarled and kicked at a clump of weeds, spraying dirt everywhere. "This is some bullshit right here." He grabbed his pistol out of his waistband and stared at it. "How many of those things you think I killed today, Barbie? How many? One? Two? Mrs. Hudson? Elmer? Naw, I'll tell ya it was more than two. C'mon, guess! You're a college girl. You're so smart. How _many people do you think I murdered so you could come have fun out here?_ "

Beth kept her mouth shut glanced at Daryl, who gave her a quick nod.

"Been a long day," Daryl said. "It's just us here. It's good. Kick back, man."

"Kick back," Merle mocked. "What'd _you_ do to get this little princess here? Fuckin' dozen people are dead, and I did it. More than that. Probably two dozen. Killed 'em. Shot 'em in the forehead." He dropped the gun and covered his forehead with his hand. "Shit, man, what if there's a cure? They ain' gonna get better now." He thought of the drugs in the baggie stuffed in his sleeping bag. It had been months since he'd had a craving, but now he needed it. Anything to erase the video that kept playing in his head of the hostiles he'd taken down.

"They don't get better," Beth piped up. "Once they're dead, they're dead. So it's not like you did something bad."

Merle scowled and shook his head at her. "What the fuck do you know about it? The only reason we got stuck back there is because of you. I wouldn'a had to kill anyone if it wasn' for you."

"Leave her alone, Merle," Daryl said in a low voice.

"I already said it's your fault for bringin' 'er," Merle snapped. "When she gets killed or gets one of us killed, it's all on you, man." The thought consumed him. _Drugs._ He stalked to the back of the pick-up and dug through the gear for the baggie. "Fuck it, man."

Daryl immediately recognized the jerky way Merle was moving and sighed. "Don't, Merle."

"You seen what I seen today, you'd do the same." He pulled open the bag. "Nothin's worth stayin' sober for. Fuck this shit."

"Is he," Beth whispered.

"C'mon," Daryl said, gently pushing her away from camp. "We need firewood. I'll show you what to look for."

Merle watched as Daryl led Beth away, and only felt half guilty when Beth glanced over her shoulder at him with a look that landed somewhere between pity and hatred. 

* * *

The sticks were poking him through his shirt, but Daryl didn't complain. Every few feet Beth would stop and scoop up a tree limb and snap it into pieces before dumping it into the pile in Daryl's arms. She had resumed her happy chatter, carrying on a conversation by herself while he listened and occasionally laughed.

"Is this enough?" Beth asked as she broke another branch into sections. "This is going to be a big fire."

"Naw," Daryl replied, "let's grab some more. Don't want to have to go out when it's pitch black."

Beth's expression grew solemn. "Are you just keepin' me out here because Merle's high back there?" Daryl hadn't replied when she nodded. "Yeah. I didn't mean to make him mad. I didn't ask for you to wait for me."

"I know," Daryl agreed. "He knows. Jus' lookin' for somethin' to blame. Finally has an excuse to use, so he is." He frowned and shifted the firewood in his arms. "Things were good for a long time. We had the shop, bought a nice house. Kept it clean. Not like when we were kids, bouncin' from place to place." The pang of anger and guilt stirred deep inside him and he cleared his throat. "Merle's gonna do his thing. He ain' gonna hurt you."

"I know." Beth scooped and picked up a few twigs. They'd rough it for one night. She'd be near a high, possibly creepy Merle for one night. She could survive one night. "So what do you want for dinner? I'm afraid there won't be any pie tonight."

Daryl grinned. "It _is_ Tuesday, ain' it?"

* * *

Merle sat in a stupor while Beth and Daryl ate next to the fire.

"We used to have bonfires on the farm, you know," Beth said as she poked at the logs with a broken-off branch. "I mean I didn't build them, but I tended them. I put more wood on. I passed out marshmallows." She grinned. "Okay, maybe you're right. I should learn to do some stuff. When we get to the farm, you'll have to teach me."

Daryl looked up. "What?"

"Just stuff. Building fires. Putting a chain back onto a bike. Hanging paintings so they're level. That kind of stuff."

"We ain' stayin' at the farm with you. We're getting you there and movin' on."

Beth looked up in shock. "What? Where were you planning to go?"

"We'll just keep moving. Staying ahead of the outbreak. Staying in the woods." When Beth stared at him with a hurt look on her face, Daryl sighed. "You really want Merle around when he's like this? He ain' the best houseguest when he's all messed up." He snickered when he saw Merle had fallen asleep against the tree.

Beth smiled when she heard the soft snoring. "He's hardly a monster right now. Besides, we can get rid of the drugs so he can't use them. We could use your help at the farm. If things are going to get worse, it'll be us against the world." Beth batted her eyes like she had the first day they'd met at the garage. "A southern gentleman won't leave me in the middle of noewhere, defenseless?"

Daryl didn't buy the act. "You said it ain' the middle of nowhere. Besides, you got a gun. Don't look at me like that."

Beth grinned and looked down. "Fine. But why move around? We've got livestock and crops, and a well. You don't need to move around. We have literally everything you need."

"I can't take your family's stuff." Daryl shook his head. "Ain' right."

"You'll work for it. Please," Beth said, reaching over and touching Daryl's knee. "Just stay. I want you to stay." She looked up and held her breath for a moment. The fire flickered in front of them and reflected in Daryl's eyes. She'd always heard the glow of the fire was romantic, but she had no idea it was true. "You don't have to stay in the house, if you don't want. Bring the tent. Please? I don't want to lose you." The words sounded dramatic even for what could be the end of the world, so she added, "Like, literally losing you and not knowing where you are. The phones still aren't working. You know." A grin crept onto Daryl's face and she smiled and continued. "Who would have Tuesday dinner and Friday drinks with me?" Beth gave his knee a squeeze. "Don't be stupid, Daryl."

Daryl looked at her hand on his knee. Her fingers were long and slender; her nails painted the color of toothpaste. Before he could stop himself, his hand covered hers. _The damn girl's nearly begging._ A full smile broke through and he nodded. "All right. Farm it is."

Beth pulled her hand away and threw her arms around his neck. "Good!"

Having been in such an embrace before, Daryl knew what was coming. As Beth closed her eyes and leaned in to kiss Daryl's cheek, he turned his head and caught her lips against his own. Beth's eyes fluttered open in surprise, but quickly closed again. A soft hum of contentment buzzed on her lips as Daryl wrapped his arms around her waist and held her close.

As the pair kissed by the fire, one word settled in Daryl's mind. _Finally._


	15. Inu

**A/N: Hey, Muffins! In response to a few PM's and reviews I've gotten, I'm preparing a Bethyl AU with no zombies fic. Just straight Bethyl shenanigans in the regular world. It'll start out similar to this one, then go in a different direction... a walker-free direction. I'll post another A/N when it's ready!**

 **Don't worry, this fic will continue on. A warning, if you will: That Damn Girl is going to get a bit gritty, as things tend to do during the apocalypse.**

 **Happy reading. Comments/questions/suggestions always welcome. 3**

* * *

A scratching sound jarred Beth awake. The unfamiliar grey surroundings alarmed her for a moment as she came to and realized she was in a tent. Daryl was sleeping with an arm draped across her waist, Merle was snoring on the other side of him, and Yoshi was pawing at the side of the tent.

"Come on, boy," Beth whispered, slipping out of the tent. The sun was just rising on the horizon and the first rays of orange light were filtering through the trees. Their campsite was undisturbed. Beth took a deep breath and smiled proudly. She'd survived the night out in the wild. Now all that was left to do was head to the farm and everything would be okay. The plan was set in stone, as far as she was concerned, and she'd be damned if anything got in her way and kept her from getting to her family.

Maggie loved Daryl and told her that much on the phone the last time they spoke, so Beth was certain he'd be welcomed with open arms. Merle, on the other hand, was going to be a hard sell to her father. She'd just have to keep the drug thing to herself.

A rustling in the trees brought Beth out of her thoughts. "Yoshi, come on," she called softly. The dog darted back into the campsite, his tail wagging as he pounced about. "What, you've got a stick? Wanna play?" Beth said, kneeling down.

Yoshi jumped into a play bow and dropped a severed hand in her lap. A scream burst from Beth's throat. She hit the hand away and recoiled. Yoshi snatched up the hand and ran around her, thinking she was playing. He shook the hand and brushed it against Beth's face as she flailed and continued to scream.

"The fuck's goin' on?" Merle's voice came from inside the tent.

The tent thrashed about as Daryl tore his way through the opening. His hair stood in all directions, making him look even more wild than usual. His sudden arrival sent Yoshi running. "What happened?" His hunting knife was in his raised hand. He scanned the campsite for hostiles or intruders. When he couldn't detect a threat, he looked down to Beth. "What you screamin' for?" He scanned the site again.

Beth shuddered and wiped at her arms and cheeks where Yoshi had wiped hand on her, hoping she'd play. "He had a hand. _A hand."_

Daryl glanced in the direction he'd seen the dog take off. "Yoshi? How far's he usually wander?"

"Not far," Beth replied, getting to her feet and wiping off her jeans. "Geeze. I thought we'd be okay out here." She glanced over her shoulder. "That means they're around here, doesn't it? We should go. We _need to go._ " Panic washed over her. Coming this deep into the woods had seemed like a foolproof plan. If they weren't safe here, would the farm be any safer? "We need to go now!"

"Mmhmm," Daryl grunted, ignoring her and tracking the dog out into the trees. Tracks criss-crossed each other, but each could be tied to a deer, a boar, an armadillo. A whine from nearby carried through the trees.

"Yoshi?" Beth's voice came from the campsite.

" _Stay there,_ " Daryl called. "Get Merle up!" He crept closer to where he'd heard the dog. Apprehension settled over him, but he pushed forward anyway. It was either him or Beth looking for the damn dog, and he trusted himself not to get killed. "Yosh," he hissed. "Here, mutt."

The dog whined, and Daryl pushed ahead. Groans caught his ear and Daryl reached for his pistol. Rustling sounds approached him, and he took aim. A flash of fur blew past him and he jumped. "Hey!"

Stumbling after the dog came a group of hostiles. Daryl took down three of them, counted ten more, then tipped his head back for a moment and groaned. A little girl was hurrying after the adults. Her blonde pigtails were drenched with blood. Daryl shot another of the adults and stepped backward. "No," he grumbled. The girl's leg had been ravaged. He bent and vomited, then righted himself.

At the sound of gunshots , Beth ran blindly into the trees, fumbling to pull her pistol free of its holster. Yoshi followed behind her. "Daryl!" Beth called. "Daryl?"

" _Go back!"_ Daryl snarled as he pulled the trigger again. Another hostile fell, then another. The gun clicked on the third time. _Out of ammo_. Daryl stuffed the gun into his waistband and held up his knife, puffing for breath as adrenaline pulsed through him. Six more hostiles were closing in on him, their bloody teeth bared.

"Oh, my god," Beth breathed, pausing and hiding behind a tree.

Yoshi snarled and ran toward the hostiles as Daryl braced himself as a tall farmer hostile reached for him. He grappled with the hostile for a moment before plunging the knife into its neck. It didn't stop gnashing its teeth, and Daryl stumbled backward. "The fuck?" The swung the knife again, sinking it into the hostile's temple. The corpse keeled over.

"Yoshi, no!" Beth squeaked. She screamed as a little girl hostile grabbed Yoshi and pinned him to the ground. As it bent to bite the dog's throat, Beth squeezed her eyes shut. At the same time, a shot rang out. The hostile girl keeled over and Yoshi took off in a hard sprint. Though she was unsure what exactly had happened, Beth screamed, "Yoshi!" and started to run after the dog.

" _No_ _t again_ _,"_ Merle's voice came from behind her. He wrapped an arm around the girl's waist and dragged her backward. "Not happenin'." His pistol was still in his hand. "There. Made it up to you for sayin' I'd shoot the dog yesterday." Still pinning Beth to his side, he fired off a few more shots, clearing the remainder of the herd.

" _Daryl,"_ Beth exclaimed as he walked over. Blood was splattered up and down his arms. _  
_  
"Fine," Daryl grumbled. He nodded at Merle. "Thanks."

Merle released Beth and nodded back. "Sound draws 'em. They'll be all over us, if they're 'round these parts. Best pack on up and move on down the road."

"I'll just get Yoshi," Beth said, turning and shouting in the direction he'd run. "Yoshi!"

Merle clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle the sound, but did so harder than he meant. Beth cried out in pain as her lip split. "Didn' you hear a word I just said? You want to keep screamin' and bring those rottin' bodies down on us? I don't think so!" He pulled his hand away and grimaced at the sight of her bloody lip.

"Hey, ass," Daryl snapped as Beth wiped blood from her mouth. "Don't fuckin' touch her!" He marched up to Merle and stared him down.

"Oh, like I meant to do that." Merle rolled his eyes and stepped back. _Not worth the fight_. "You wanted to bring her with us so bad. Keep her under control or I'm taking off and leavin' both of yas behind." Merle turned back to the truck. "C'mon. Pack up. We ain' got all day."

As snarls floated on the wind, Daryl pulled a bandana from his pocket. "Here."

Beth pressed it to her lip and tears began to flow down her cheeks. "He's my puppy. I can't leave him."

Daryl gave her a hard look. "We've gotta go. He'll be okay out here. Dogs are smart."

"We have to wait for him. He'll come back." She blinked through her tears at Daryl, hoping he'd take pity on her and let her go after the dog. She toyed with the idea of running after Yoshi and taking her chances with being left behind. Experience told her that was a horrible idea.

"It's either you die out here lookin' for that dog, or you get in the truck. I ain' dying for that dog, and neither are you." Daryl put his hand on the small of her back and led her back to the campsite. "Pack up. Maybe he'll come back by the time we leave." As Beth sniffled and avoided eye contact with him, Daryl sighed _._ If a year ago someone had told him he'd have a pretty blonde girl hanging around, he wouldn't have believed them. If they said the dead would rise and terrorize the living, he'd have laughed. If someone told him that he'd have a pretty, young girlfriend to watch after as corpses chased after them, he'd have told them they were off their nut. Yet here they were. _That damn girl's got the worst timing._

* * *

Beth sat silently in the pickup, wedged between the Dixon men. Her lip stung, but she didn't blame Merle. Beth hadn't put two and two together that the hostiles could still hear, and hunted for humans by sound. She felt foolish and wanted to apologize, but was too mad about leaving Yoshi behind to say sorry.

Their silence was comfortable, but hers felt awkward. Yoshi hadn't come back to the camp and Merle had all but thrown Beth into the truck. While she wanted to scream and cry and go back for him, she knew it was too great a risk. Now she was consumed with anger and guilt, plus shame for continuing to put herself and the men in danger. When she'd moved from the farm, Beth was certain that her cheeriness and big blue eyes would get her anything she needed. Daryl was proof of that for a while, but now she regretted that course of action. Had she learned something from him, perhaps Yoshi wouldn't have run away, and perhaps they'd have left earlier and made it to the farm yesterday. If she'd learned something useful before leaving the farm, maybe she wouldn't feel like an anchor weighing everyone down.

She stole glances at the men and tried to gauge their attitudes. Daryl was absent-mindedly stroking his chin while he leaned against the door, one hand lazily propped on the steering wheel. Merle stared out the window and tapped out rhythms on his knee. Beth sighed and continued to stare straight ahead, dreading the moment a hostile stumbled out in front of the truck.

It didn't take long for her fears to manifest. Something ahead on the gravel lurched along the road, paying no attention to the truck rumbling toward it.

"How you think there's so many of 'em all over?" Merle muttered. "We ain' near nothing but that farmhouse half a mile back."

Daryl frowned and squinted at the hostile as they got closer. "Don' look like he got any bites."

"He must have died of the fever," Beth chimed in glumly. "Not everyone who was sick came to the hospital once they heard what was going on in them, with the hostiles attacking everyone."

"Leave 'em," Merle grumbled as Daryl pulled alongside the corpse and rolled down the window.

"One less hostile to kill someone else," he muttered. "Cover your ears."

Beth plugged her ears and squeezed her eyes shut. The gunshot made her jump. She kept her eyes closed as the truck began rolling again. The crunch of gravel under the tires was refreshing and reminded her of home. She tried to recall the sights and smells of the farm, but flashes of the dead filled her mind instead.


	16. Don't Cry - Soon All Seven Will Die

**Trigger warning. Things are getting gritty. If this isn't your thing, have no fear - fluff Bethyl piece in the works.**

Beth's face fell and Daryl frowned. Merle, on the other hand, sat up and exclaimed, "You're shittin' me!"

The trio had navigated around highways and interstates to a back road that would lead through a small town, and eventually, to the Greene farm. They were a block into town when they saw it: a mass of hostiles wandering about aimlessly, akin to a herd of cattle. It seemed like the entire town's population was in the streets, standing and staring at nothing in particular or slowly walking a few steps in one direction before changing course.

After a few moments of sitting and watching the hostiles bumble about, Merle spoke up. "We ain' gettin' through here."

"Can't go around. Every other road was blocked off," Daryl replied. He looked at Beth. "Any other way?"

She shook her head. "They were all blocked. The drive to the farm is on this road, about a mile out the other side of town." Her eyes flicked back and forth, from hostile to hostile. Old women. Children. Farmers. Schoolteachers. She didn't spot and of her family or farm hands among the dead, and that was a small victory in what was a crushing blow.

"Looks like it's back to the tent until we can figure out what to do," Merle drawled. "Since it's so fun and all." He nudged Beth, but she pulled away and stared at the floormats. In truth, he was glad that Daryl had picked her up. The poor girl would be one of _them_ if they hadn't brought her along, and as dumb as she was, he didn't reckon she deserved such a cruel fate. Besides, her folks' farm sounded like a sweet spot to lie low. She _did_ seem to be learning, even if it took mistakes to learn lessons.

The previous night was a blur. Merle had gotten high and slept like a rock. That's exactly what he'd hoped for. The memories of the dead still popped up in his head, even when he'd managed to think about something else. Thankfully, the more they encountered the motherfuckers, the less affected he was. Whether that was a good or a bad thing, he couldn't tell. He vowed to cut the drug stuff and to man up. Drugs were a coward's way out. He could face the situation and suck it up. He had to.

"You mad at me, Barbie?" Merle asked, nudging Beth's knee with his.

Beth watched as Daryl put the town in the rearview mirror. "No."

"The damn dog's probably fine. Pry havin' the time of his life. Hell! Bet he found some bitch and is havin' a better time than any of us."

Beth nodded.

"I'm _sorry,_ " he said, emphasizing the word. "I ain' gonna let you get yourself killed. If you're with us, you're with us." He saw Daryl glance at him. "I don' wanna have to put a bullet in your head, Blondie. You know _he_ couldn' do it," Merle continued, jerking his head towards his brother. "You gotta be smart. I know you ain' dumb. Don't get yourself killed."

"I know," Beth said softly. She'd already resolved to be smarter, to learn how to fend for herself. She knew one of these times, the men wouldn't be there to save her at the last minute. In her twenty-five years, she'd never felt both so old and so young.

"Good," Merle replied. "We'll show you how to keep yourself alive once we set up camp." He turned to Daryl and said, "'bout a mile back, then? Think that's far enough?"

"Far enough from the herd and close enough to keep an eye on the road," Daryl replied. He glanced at Beth and noticed the way she was looking at him for reassurance. The look reminded him of why he had brought her along. "We'll get to the farm. Don't worry."

* * *

Beth knew she was creeping farther away from camp than she should, but she had to pee. She never thought she'd be wandering the woods and looking for a place to pee, but here she was. It had been a full afternoon of learning how to pitch a tent, start a fire, load and unload her gun, and drive the stick shift pickup. She was feeling fairly confident in herself, if not foolish for not knowing those things in the first place.

Beth spotted a thick tree that would make perfect cover. She was far enough away from the campsite that the men wouldn't be able to see her, but she still opted for privacy. She was only a few yards from the spot when something grabbed her from behind. Beth opened her mouth to scream, but a man's rough hand clamped over her mouth before the sound could escape. Her split lip began bleeding again and the bitter taste of iron made Beth feel sick.

"Be quiet," the man grumbled. His hands were filthy and his jagged yellow teeth were bared.

Struggling with all of her might, Beth tried screaming again. Daryl and Merle weren't far away. They'd come looking for her after a minute. They had to.

The man removed his hand and jammed a gag into her mouth. "This can be hard or this can be easy," he growled as he grabbed her wrists with one large hand and fumbled with Beth's belt with the other. He pushed her up against the thick tree and held her there. "You may as well make it easy. Ain' no police out there. No one's gonna come save you, girl."

Beth squirmed and tried to pull her arms free from his grasp. _No. No. Oh, god. No._ When she couldn't pull free, she jerked her knee toward his groin.

The man saw the move coming and easily shoved her knee to the side. "I like 'em with a little fight in 'em. You saucy bitch." He ripped her jeans open and tugged the denim down. His cock was already out of his pants and throbbing between them. The man stroked it for a moment before touching her lacy underwear. "I was just wishin' a sexy thing like you was 'round for some fun. How lucky can one man get?" He tugged at her underwear and licked his lips.

Beth screamed as loud as she could into the fabric in her mouth. Thrashing from side to side, she loosened one of her arms enough to elbow her attacker in the face. He recoiled slightly, giving Beth enough room to pull the gag from her mouth and scream for help.

The man slammed her back into the tree and clocked her in the jaw. "I told you ain' no one comin'."

* * *

"Every god damn time she wanders away," Merle snapped incredulously as Beth's scream echoed through the trees. "Geeze, we gonna have to escort her out to piss now?" he said as he jumped to his feet and grabbed his pistol. Daryl tore off past him through the trees in the direction the sound came from. "Hey, wait a second," Merle puffed.

Daryl didn't slow his pace. He noted Beth's tracks in the leaves, but then a second, larger set that met up with hers. "Someone followed her," he called back to Merle. A fury overtook him as a muffled scream sounded from nearby. He slowed and took cover behind a tree when he spotted a man pinning Beth to a tree. Whatever was happening, he wanted the element of surprise and to not get Beth killed in his haste.

"Shit, there they are," Merle said as he caught up to Daryl.

Daryl's lip twitched. A man had Beth pinned against a tree and was – _son of a bitch_ trying to rape her. He rose his crossbow, but just as he was going to shoot, Merle stepped in front of him and strode easily toward the man.

"Hey, hombre," Merle called, his pistol in his hand at his side.

The man whipped his head to glare at the brothers but didn't release his renewed grip on the girl's wrists.

Relief washed over Beth. She stared at Daryl, silently pleading with him to do something. Every second the man's exposed erection pressed against her thigh, she wanted to walk through fire to burn off the feeling of contamination searing into her skin.

"That's a nice piece of ass you got there. Too bad for you, I already found her. Ain' that right, Blondie?" Merle took a few steps toward the stranger, his finger resting on the pistol trigger. The look on Beth's face twisted his insides. _Shit._ _She's scared out of her mind._ "I see you're in the middle of somethin'. I appreciate that, I do, but she got away from us first and we want her back." He licked his teeth and tried to sell the act. _Only way to deal with a shithead is to be a shithead. Speak his language_. "So send her this way and I won't blow your brains out." He didn't take his eye from the rapist's face.

The man's lip curled into a sneer. "I'll give her back when I'm finished with her. Finders keepers." He turned back and sniffed Beth's hair as his hand crept up her ribs to her breast.

A sob became strangled in the gag and a tear rolled down Beth's cheek. She felt stupid for going too far from camp, for not being stronger, for needing to be rescued. She squeezed her eyes shut and prayed for it to end.

"Now we can work something out, but I'm gonna need-" Merle started, but didn't get to finish. A crossbow bolt whizzed by his ear and planted itself in the man's throat. A short spray of bright red blood shot out of his neck as he stumbled backward, clawing wildly at the arrow before falling to his knees. Beth pulled her jeans back up and ran for cover behind Daryl as the man bled out on the ground.

"Jesus tits, Daryl! I had it under control," Merle said in surprise. "Now what'd you go and do that for? We could have beat the shit out of him. Taught him a lesson before we killed him." He strode over and gave the dead man a solid kick in the ribs. A sickening crunch sounded. Smirking in satisfaction, Merle stooped and pulled the arrow free. "Gave him the easy way out." He spat on the man and glared at the body.

Beth redid her belt and scratched at her arms. "Ugh," she cried out in frustration. She shook her head vigorously, rubbed at her arms, and stamped her feet. " _Ugh!"_ A feeling of filthiness crawled over her skin and she longed for a scalding hot shower.

"You all right?" Merle reached out to put a hand on her shoulder, but Daryl shook his head slightly. Merle let his hand drop and stared at the ground. "Right."

"That was stupid, so stupid," Beth whispered, rubbing her arms and neck. "It was my fault for wandering so far-"

"No," Merle and Daryl snapped at the same time, giving her identical glares.

She swallowed and shuddered, swatting at her skin again as if something was crawling on her. "If I would have just-"

"Stop," Daryl interrupted. "It ain' your fault." He nodded toward the body. "Son of a bitch is dead. You're safe."

"Here," Merle said, pulling his handkerchief from his pocket. "Your lip."

"I'm sorry," Beth whispered, wiping her chin and mouth. The bright red blood seeped into the white fabric.

"I said stop. You didn' do nothin' wrong," Daryl replied. The fact that he'd murdered a man not two minutes ago didn't bother him like he imagined it would. He'd never killed; he'd never hurt another human besides in assorted bar scuffles. Yet a man – not a hostile - was lying dead on the ground at his hand and Daryl felt no remorse.

He watched Beth tug at her hair and twitch her head from side to side and immediately recognized what she was doing. Daryl exchanged a glance with Merle and knew that he got it, too. Their sorry excuse for a father was to thank for their knowledge of abuse and its aftermath. Daryl stared at the ground and sighed. Now Beth would be a member of the club. He hoped desperately it wouldn't change her as it had him and Merle.

Beth stole at glance at the attacker, then screamed again. The man was sitting up, even as blood ran down from the hole in his neck to soak his shirt. He snarled; the sound coming out as a sickening gurgle.

"What in the fuck?" Merle breathed, pulling out his pistol.

Daryl grabbed Beth and pushed her behind him. He rose his crossbow and planted a bolt in the man's forehead. He fell dead – _again_ with a thud.

"What in the fuck was that shit?" Merle exclaimed, stepping over the man and staring at him. "Wait." He knelt over the corpse and peered closer. "Naw, no. He ain't bit. He sure as hell weren't sick. What in the fuck." He looked at Daryl, expecting some sort of explanation. When he just shrugged, Merle shook his head. "So people get sick and turn into these. They get bit and turn into these. Or they just get killed and come back? People can't even die anymore without this shit happening? Jesus Christ."

Beth blinked and let the realization sink in. They must all be infected. The fact didn't seem as alarming as it might have been if she hadn't just been sexually assaulted. She brushed off her arms, desperately wishing to destroy all memory of the man's rough hands and awful breath. "I shouldn't have come this far. I'm sorry."

"Stop," Daryl said softly. "Ain' your fault. Ain' your fault," he repeated. He didn't move to touch her, but instead slung his bow over his shoulder. "I ain' burying this shithead. Let the animals or hostiles or whatever eat him. Let's get back to camp."

* * *

That night, Beth sat with her arms wrapped around her legs and knees tucked under her chin. She'd run the gamut of emotions, from anger at the man to anger at herself, relief at _not_ being raped, and fear that it would happen again. Merle had finally gotten tired enough of her blubbering that he'd gone out to find more firewood.

Daryl sat across the fire from Beth, watching her carefully. When her tears subsided and she'd been sitting and staring into the fire for a good ten minutes, he spoke. "Feeling'll go away in a few days. You'll always remember, but you won't feel like ya need to shower."

Beth's eyes flicked up and met his. "How do you know?"

As he'd watched Beth react to being molested, he'd relived the abuse his sorry excuse for a father had inflicted upon him and Merle. Old Will Dixon tried hard to be a good father when the boys' mother had died, but it got too much for him. Instead of asking for help, he turned to drinking and drugs. In those hazes, Merle and Daryl had taken beatings and worse.

"Personal experience," Daryl replied. He looked back up and was releived that Beth's face finally showed some emotion after being blank all night.

Beth blinked at him. "I'm sorry."

"Quit bein' sorry. It ain' your fault. That shithead would have attacked you or anyone no matter what you did," Daryl said, holding up his hand. "No more apologies. You've gotta realize that. Ain' your fault."

Beth gave a small smile. _He cares so much._ "I meant I'm sorry that happened to you." She scratched at her arms again, not realizing she was doing it until Daryl said, "That won't help." She looked at her arms and was surprised to see them raw and bleeding. "I- I didn't realize I was doing it, I guess. I just feel gross. Dirty."

Daryl nodded. "Yup. You will. 's normal." He glanced up when Merle strolled back into camp.

"Yous still awake?" Merle asked, dropping an armful of firewood on the ground. _At least she isn't crying anymore,_ he thought. Dealing with abuse and the likes left him with a sick feeling in his stomach. _Killing hostiles is easy compared to this._

"Yeah, she is," Daryl replied when Beth remained silent and continued to stare at the fire. "Hard to sleep after something like that."

"I know," Merle grumbled. "Don't mean you don't need to sleep, though." He sat on a rock next to Beth, and careful not to touch her, leaned in. "Sleep. I'll take first watch. No one's comin' in here. No one dead _or_ alive."

Beth shrugged, then nodded. "Okay. Thanks." She touched his arm as she got up and went into the tent to try and sleep.

"If you can't sleep, we'll be here to talk," Daryl called. He exchanged a look with Merle. "Never thought you'd deal with this shit again, huh?"

Merle shook his head. "Didn' think it'd go to shit this fast. We gonna have to keep watch, baby bro. If there's rapists out here there's gonna be thieves." The familiar itch to bump nagged at him. He licked his lips and scratched the back of his head. _Not now._ _Man up._ "I'll take watch. Go sleep."

Daryl shook his head. "Naw. She'd be better off sleeping alone for now."

"Yeah," Merle nodded. "You're pry right." He stretched out his legs and put his hands behind his head.

Daryl stabbed his hunting knife into the dirt beside him repeated. "Shoulda stood watch or somethin'."

"You know as well as I do there ain' nothin' you could have done. What's gonna happen is gonna happen. She'll be all right. Gonna be a long night for us, though." He stuck a cigarette between his lips and lit it. The horrified look on Beth's face from that afternoon haunted him. _Poor kid._ From the get-go, he and Beth had an interesting friendship. After watching her genuinely trying to learn how to drive a stick shift that afternoon, he figured he couldn't blame her for not knowing much. If no one taught her, how could she learn? She wasn't half as dumb as he'd figured she was. _Just an act,_ Merle figured.

Merle had occasionally wondered what it'd be like to have a sister or a wife around. He'd never attracted female friends. Beth had a refreshing presence and while he had no desire to fall in love with her, he appreciated that Daryl had.

She was one of them and he'd die before he let her come to harm again.


	17. Sawdust and Diamonds

When the rain started that night, it didn't seem like it would ever stop. The Dixon brothers sat in silence as water dripped from their noses. Their fire had gone out and now the cold rain was keeping them wide awake. Inside their tent, Beth Greene slept soundly after narrowly escaping a rapist in the woods.

"C'mon," Daryl grumbled as lightning flashed again. "No use gettin' soaked out here." He pulled open the tent flap and stepped in. "Beth?" he whispered in the dark.

"I was wonderin' if you were gonna come inside," Beth whispered sleepily. "Thought you were in the truck."

Daryl groaned. "Didn' think of it."

"Smart. Pull up some sleepin' bag," Beth mumbled into her pillow. She'd been sleeping like a rock and was surprised the storm roaring outside hadn't startled her awake. Opening an eye, she smiled sleepily at Daryl and Merle as they slogged into the tent. "You didn' have to stay outside."

"'s all righ'," Daryl muttered, pulling off his soaked shirt and kicking off his jeans.

Merle did the same. "You sure one of us don' need to keep watch?"

"Naw," Daryl replied. "Ain' no one going to be out in this shit." He tossed his wet clothes in a pile with Merle's and stretched out next to Beth.

"Guess so," Merle mumbled as he laid down with his back to Beth. "I'm sleepin' with one ear open." As the others drifted to sleep, Merle didn't, - couldn't, wouldn't – sleep. It wasn't the thunder or patter of rain drops keeping him up. His baby brother and that damn girl were sound asleep. If Merle let himself doze off, the two of them would be as good as sitting ducks. There had been too many close calls and he wasn't going to let one of those hostiles rip anyone apart just because he was sleepy like a pussy.

* * *

It had been an hour – felt like eternity – when the urge to use hit Merle like a truck. Instead, he stretched and rolled over to get as comfortable as he could. "Don't need it," he reassured himself out loud. Sighing, he stood up and stepped outside to piss.

* * *

The scent of humans was intoxicating. Pouring rain and sticky mud did little to wash away the scent. Navigating the trees and streams easily, it sniffed the air. _They're close.  
_ How long had it been since the last taste of food?

Over a fallen tree – a bit clumsily – past an abandoned sedan, through a clearing. Lightning flickering to illuminate the way. _So close._ Then, the tent came into view. An adult was outside. _There!_

* * *

A rustling broke the steady rainfall as Merle was reaching for the tent flap. "Knew it!" he called. "Come on out. Let's do this." He pulled his pistol and waited. "Ain' got all night. Take your sweet time, why dontcha?" _Hostiles._ His lip pulled back and he bared his teeth. _No way they're getting my family._

Inside the tent, Daryl's eyes flipped open. His hand flew to Beth's side to ensure she was still there. When she stirred slightly, he mumbled, "Go back to sleep. Gonna see what Merle's yellin' 'bout outside."

Merle snarled again. "Come on out, ya pansies. I'm ready." The rain was falling harder now; an absolute deluge. The sounds of whatever was lurking nearby was muddled and Merle scanned the treeline frantially. "Where you at?" The sounds suddenly seemed too fast to be a hostile. Thieves? Murderers? He raised the gun and rested his finger on the trigger. _Shoot first, ask questions later._

"What is it?" Daryl asked as he joined Merle in the rain.

"They're out there. Heard it." Merle wiped the rain from his face with his free hand. The look on Daryl's face cut him like a knife. "I ain' high. No sir-ee!" Merle scowled. "Thought about it, though. But listen! There's really somethin' out here."

A whisper in the weeds revealed the lurker.

"You are shitting me," Merle exclaimed. "No fuckin' way."

Daryl dropped to his knees in disbelief. "Beth," he called, "get out here!"

Beth had been lying awake, listening to the commotion outside. Her stomach churned and she braced herself for the next rotting body that wanted to devour her skin. When she peered cautiously out into the rain, she shrieked in joy. "Yoshi!"

The dog was lying on his back in the mud, squirming as Daryl scratched his belly. "Thought you'd want to wake up for this," Daryl said.

Merle blinked and stared at the girl as she scooped up the dog and hugged him. The damn dog had been watching him from the trees. _Damn thing probably hates me._

"I knew things had to get better. Something good _had_ to happen!" Beth fought happy tears as she buried her face in the dog's soaked fur. "How'd you find us, boy?"

Daryl smiled and momentarly forgot they were standing in a downpour. The wide grin on Beth's face warmed him to the core.

"That's it," Merle announced. "That mutt's a trooper. We'll keep him if he quits headin' for the hills at every sound. Keep the leash on him, Barbie." The girl needed something positive to keep her going until they could make it to the farm, and Merle figured feeding a tiny dog wasn't so bad.

Nodding, Daryl agreed. "Yeah. Don't want to lose him again."

Beth looked up and the smile immediately fell into a look of anguish. "Behind you!"

A hostile's fingertips brushed again'st Daryl's bare back before he spun and shoved it backward. "Damn it," he hissed, pulling his blade out and neatly sliding it into the corpse's temple. The body collapsed to a messy pile in the mud. "Let's get inside. If they can't see or hear us, we'll probably be all right. Didn't have any around until Dumbass started yelling."

Beth ushered Yoshi into the tent. Merle snorted and followed suit. _As if we weren't crowded enough. Now we'll smell like mutt._

Scanning the treeline one more time before zipping the tent, Daryl mumbled, "No vacancy."

* * *

"I've got it," Beth declared over breakfast on the fire the next morning. She'd been near silent since the attack in the woods, but Yoshi's sudden reapprearance had visibly cheered her.

"Got what?" Merle mumbled. He wasn't a morning person. While he was relieved Beth seemed to bounce back from her attacked, her was annoyed that her bubbliness had returned at full steam.

"We can get to the farm today."

Daryl shook his head. "Naw. I just checked it out before you got up. They're still out there. Hope the storm would have scattered them."

"That's okay," Beth replied. "Didn't you hear some of them go past the tent last night?"

The Dixons shifted uncomfortably.

"Fell asleep," Daryl admitted. "They came by?"

"Same," Merle grumbled. "At least Sentry Barbie was on duty."

"Should have gotten me up," Daryl said.

"No, it was _fine,"_ Beth said. "You said it yourself. If they can't see or hear us, they don't know we're there, right?" When the men nodded, she continued. "We'll lure them away from the main road, then drive the truck through. We can take out the ones still in the way."

"What's the distraction to get them away?" Daryl asked.

"You can take the bike down some back streets. You don't have to be near them at all. Just make sound," Beth explained. Pride resounded in her words. The plan was good and she was pleased with herself for finally contributing something meaningful. Maybe she could be the brains behind the operation.

"No way," Merle snapped at the same time Daryl sighed, "All right." The brothers exchanged matching glares.

"You ain' stickin' your neck out for no reason. I'll have to babysit Blondie if you get yourself killed," Merle drawled. "No offense," he added hastily.

"It'll pry work," Daryl said. "I'll buzz down the back road a few times and meet back up on the other side of town on the main road." He shrugged. "That or we stay here in the mud for another night. We can try it."

Merle gave Beth a hard look. "I'll take the bike, then."

"You ain' takin' my bike," Daryl growled. He nodded at Beth. "I'll do it. Good thinkin'."

She smiled and scratched Yoshi behind the ears. "You'll both _love_ the farm. Patricia, one of our farm hands, she cooks like you wouldn't believe."

Her delight immediately rubbed off on Daryl, Merle noted in bemused annoyance.

"Better than you?" Daryl asked genuinely. "Doubt it."

Merle snorted. "Fine. Your idea gets my aby brother killed? You won't get that ride the rest of the way to the farm. You can hoof it."

Beth gave a smile. "We'll all be there before lunch time."

* * *

Sweat rolled down Daryl's nose and onto the motorcycle between his knees. Serving as the distraction had seemed noble enough at the time it was suggested. If it worked, the trio would be eating lunch with Beth's family in an hour. On the other hand, if the plan went to shit he would _be_ lunch for a giant mob of hostiles. That damn girl had him volunteering to risk his life without so much as a second thought.

Beth nodded. "We'll push through and meet you at First and Main, okay?" She couldn't ignore how pale Daryl suddenly looked. "Are you sure you wanna do this? We can find another way. Maybe hike through the back woods. It's only a few miles."

Daryl shook his head. "Try this first." He kicked the bike to life.

"Daryl," Beth called over the rumble before he rolled away. "Wait. I know I'll see you in a few minutes, but." She leanwd in and briefly pressed her lips against his. "For luck!" she exclaimed before stepping back. "Remember. First and Main. See you soon."


	18. Skin

"I'll be damned." Merle glanced across the pickup console at Beth, who was grinning smugly.

"Told you it would work," she sang, stroking her Shiba Inu calmly.

The road full of hostiles was clearing as the mob stumbled toward the sounds of Daryl's motorcycle two blocks away. When one of the corpses would turn to investigate the sound, another two would take note and decide to come along.

Merle eased the pickup forward, slowly creeping down Main Street without incident. When they'd finally reached the edge of town and the predetermined intersection, he put the truck in park. Cracking the window, he strained to hear Daryl's motorcycle. Every time that bike had rolled into the garage at midnight, Merle had sworn he'd do anything to nevver hear the roar again while he was trying to sleep. Now he'd give his left nut for the roar to come through.

"We got through pretty fast," Beth's voice came. The hopeful tambre was clearly forced. "Maybe he's just trying to give us more time." The words were meant to keep Merle from spiraling into a negative mindset, but Beth realized she needed the thought, too.

Merle nodded. "He'll be here." He heaved a sigh and glaced at the girl next to him. It was hard to remember her working in a casino when she was in college. It hadn't yet been a week since the world had gone to shit, but it could have been months. The bullshit he'd seen – the walking corpses – was enough to make him want to give up. He had enough of the good stuff that he could OD and be gone from this world quick.

Beth began humming and the dog cocked its head from side to side as it listened to her.

Merle chuckled and laid his head back against the head rest. Shame washed over him for ever considering killing himself. As long as his baby brother and Blondie were alive, he'd stick around and see that they were all okay. Dixons were strong and there was no way he'd live through all the shit of his life just to quit now. Besides, he had the new gang to look after. The thought of Daryl made Merle lift his head and look out the window again. A faint rumble set his nerves aright. " _Finally."_

Beth gave him a small smile. "You were worried?" She reached over and punched him lightly in the shoulder. "I thought you guys were tough."

"Whatever." Merle jumped out of the truck and dropped the hatch. The ramp hit the ground with a _clang!_ and he glanced around apprehensively. A few of the leftover hostiles turned their heads and began lurching toward them. "Let's go!" he called as Daryl rolled into sight.

"They're behind me! Go!" Daryl called as he rode up the ramp and into the truck bed. The front tire caught on the tent and slid, pinning Daryl between the bike and the side of the truck. He groaned at the crushing weight, but shook his head frantically at Merle. "They're coming! Go."

"Merle!" Beth cried from the front seat as she watched the front seat. "Don't leave him there!" She flung off her seat belt, but Daryl glared at her from under the bike and snarled, "Stay in the cab."

Beth huffed in frustration. "Then hurry," she snarled to Merle. She winced as Daryl wriggled under the motorcycle. Her annoyance at being told to stay where she immediately disappeared when movement caught her eye. The mob of townpeople-turned-hostiles had rounded the corner and spotted them. " _Hurry!"_ she cried again. Yoshi jumped up on the seat and barked furiously out the cracked window. " _No, no!"_ Beth snapped, grabbing the dog and pulling him onto her lap. If the hostiles hadn't spotted the humans, the barking made sure to alert them of their location.

"Leave me, just drive! I'm in the truck!" Daryl panted as he threw a glance toward the mob. He groaned in discomfort. The handlebars had turned and were pressing into his shoulder. The side of the pickup bed was digging into his back and the weight of the bike was crushingly heavy. "C'mon! Just get us outta here," he panted.

" _Hurry!"_ Beth shrieked again as she struggled against Yoshi, who was still barking up a storm. "Quiet, come on, quiet!"

"You ain' gonna be no good with a bunch of broken ribs, baby bro," Merle snapped, jumping into the bed and heaving the bike up with a mighty grunt.

Daryl slid away from the bike, but his leg was still pinned.

Merle cried out as the bike's weight fought against him and the tires slid on the slick material of the tent. "Come on, come on," he chanted over and over as he tugged at the machine.

"Just drop it! _Go!"_ Daryl begged.

Merle scowled, but understood Daryl's urgency when the snarling drew closer.

" _Go!"_ Daryl hollered. He glanced at Beth and was surprised to see her watching him in silent concern. Though a herd of undead corpses were walking toward her, the girl chose to watch him, a doof pinned under his own motorcycle. The notion almost brought a dumb smile to his face, but the pain stopped him as Merle lowered the bike and slammed the gate shut.

"How far is it?" Merle shouted to Beth as he flung open the door and jumped in.

"Not far," Beth replied quickly. "Watch out!"

Merle turned and fired a shot out the window at the nearest hostile. "Hang tight!"

Daryl cried out in pain as the truck pulled forward and the bike shifted. One of the pipes dug directly into his shin. The metal was still hot and the searing pain sent a jolt up his body. He gritted his teeth and struggled to pull his leg free. "Mother _fucker!"_ He hollered, burying his fist in the tent. The heat from the pipe was unbearable. With a mighty jerk that required all of his strength, Daryl's leg was free. Instead of the intense heat of a burn, now a blinding agony swept upward from his leg.

Beth pulled open the window and glanced down at Daryl as the pickup rolled out of town and down a familiar road. "Are you okay?" He was free, but the look on his face said something was terribly wrong. The denim had torn away along with a large flap of skin just below his knee. Much of his shin was exposed. Blood was oozing and matting in the remaining hair on his leg. His leg throbbed and burned and he squeezed his eyes shut and saw stars.

"My dad will be able to help. We'll be there in like five minutes. _Turn here,"_ Beth turned and directed Merle. She hung back out the back window. "Cover it with something! You have to stop that bleeding."

"It's fine," Daryl panted.

"Cover it, dumbass," Merle called over his shoulder.

Daryl grunted and grabbed his pack from the pile of supplies next to him. He pulled out one of his dirty shirts and pressed it into his leg. The scenery around him spun. It was as if he was pressing sandpaper against the raw flesh. The blood quickly soaked through, but Daryl didn't bother swapping it out for another dressing.

"Put pressure on that," Beth instructed. "Daryl, I'm serious. You can't afford to lose blood now." She turned and glanced out the windshield. The familiar cream colored farmhouse and surrounding buildings rose on the horizon."That's it up ahead. You see it?"

Merle nodded. "That's it?" He stepped on the gas. "Your dad can help him? Ain' he a doc or somethin'?"

"Close," Beth replied. "He's a vet."

"A vet?" Merle snapped. "You can't be for real, girl."

"I don't care," Daryl panted. "Just get me somewhere." He peeled back the soaked shirt and looked at his leg. The sight was nearly worse than the sensation. The bright red color was as blaringly obnoxious as the shooting nerve pain rocketing up into his hip. A small pool of blood was puddling under him, steadily growing larger. "Hurry."

When the truck rolled up to the farmhouse front porch a few moments later, Beth jumped out and screamed, "Maggie! Daddy! Otis! Come out here! We need help! Daddy!" She pounded up the front porch and into the house, yelling for assistance.

By that point, Daryl was taking deep breaths and trying to refrain from blacking out from the pain. As he puffed, Yoshi jumped into the bed of the pickup and sat down on top of the downed motorcycle. The dog whined and gave his tail a thump as it studied Daryl quizically.

"Jesus Christ." Merle gaped at the bare flesh and bone of his brother's leg. "What the hell?" He stroked his chin in grotesque surprise.

"Bike shifted when we started movin'. Pulled my leg out and it took the skin." Daryl squinted up at his brother. "Get the vet out here." He sucked in a breath through his teeth and groaned.

Merle leaned in and studied the gaping wound on Daryl's leg."That's the bone there." Sucking his teeth, he nodded. "Yeah, that's definitely bone. Ain' broken, but it's stickin' right out in the air here."

"Yeah. Thanks." Speaking was a challenge. The pain was making his empty stomach churn. Dry heaves seemed to be a second away. "Get the vet," he mumbled.

Yoshi whined and barked.

"Quiet, Mutt. She's lookin' for him." Merle leaned against the truck and studied the carnage of Daryl's leg. "Bet that hurts like a sonmabitch."

"Ya think? _Get the vet._ "

Yoshi snarled and barked again.

Merle guffawed after a second. "That damn dog don't like the word vet!"

As Yoshi snarled and flattened his ears and Merle giggled, Daryl slammed his hand against the side of the pickup. " _Get the fuckin' doc, Merle!"  
_  
Room after room turned up an empty house. "Hello?" Beth cried. Her heart thudded and the throbbing in her ears became deafening. "Hello?"

"Where's your pop?" Merle called into the house as Beth flew down the stairs.

"No one's here," Beth exclaimed, her eyes wide and cheeks pale. "It doesn't look like they packed anything besides Daddy's medical kit, but they're gone." She bit her lip. "I don't know what to do with Daryl's leg. Do we wrap it? Should I wash it out?" She danced on the spot.

"I ain' no medic," Merle replied. He looked around the house. "Gotta do somethin'. So you think they just went out? What- went to _town?"_ Sarcasm dripped from his words.

"I don't know where they are, but they're somewhere close." She ran back outside. "Maggie's car is gone."

"They're _gone?"_ Daryl groaned in agony. He'd pulled himself up to the pickup tailgate. Yoshi was sitting at his side. "What do you mean _they're gone?!"_

"Don't worry. I used to help Daddy with emergency calls. I'm just going to clean out your leg. Infection is the first thing that kills someone." Beth turned and bit her lip. "Okay. Extra saline. Um." She ran back into the house and dug through the hallway closet. Towels and sheets tumbled onto the floor as the girl dug for the supplies that had been there just months ago when she'd left home. Her panic clouded her senses and a simple task like fetching the extra medical supplies became impossible.

Outside, Merle was starting to worry. The Dixons were tough; made out of a thick leather and tested in fire. The only thing that could take them down was themselves. Seeing Daryl's face contort in pain sent a pang of panic through Merle. _A leg wound ain' gonna kill him. Is it?_ Snipits of his time at war flashed through his mind. Suddenly he didn't care about his brother's leg. He spotted his pack in the corner of the pickup bed. His mouth went dry and mind went blank.

"Merle," Daryl groaned. "Is she gettin' somethin', or-"

The words fell on deaf ears. Merle was digging through his pack, hunting for the baggie full of drugs: prescription and otherwise.

"Give me somethin'," Daryl panted. "Good idea. Anything."

The blue crystals crunched together in Merle's fingers and the feeling itself was comforting.

"What you _doin'?"_ Daryl panted. "C'mon, man." He craned his neck to see what his brother was doing. "Painkiller. Whiskey. Somethin'."

Beth's fingers curled around the small basket of medical supplies and she sprinted back outside. The screen door slammed shut behind her and she nearly tripped over Yoshi as she made her way to Daryl. "Here, here," she cried, quickly digging through the supplies and pulling out the saline. "We used this on a burn Jimmy got one time," she panted as she unscrewed the cap.

"Who's Jimmy?" Daryl grumbled, lying back in the truck and pressing his hands to his face.

The name made Beth's skin crawl and she was surprised that she'd brought it up. "It's not alcohol so it shouldn't sting that bad. Hang on." She poured the solution directly into the congealed blood and watched as it all flushed out.

Daryl snarled and gritted his teeth.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Beth chanted as she took a large piece of gauze and dabbed at the moisture. Daryl gave a mighty jerk and cried out. Beth pulled away immediately. "That bad?" she asked. "It's still too bloody. I can't see how bad it is. Merle, could you hand me the saline again?" She reached out her free hand, then turned to see Merle was staring at a pile of what looked like blue rock candy in his hand. "Merle. _Merle?!"_ she snapped. "Are you serious?" She reached for the saline, effectively getting blood on the otherwise sterile supplies. As the second gush of fluid washed the blood from Daryl's leg, Beth stepped back and gagged. "Oh, my god."

Daryl glanced up. "What?"

"I – I don't know. Everything's burned and scraped off." Her hands trembled. She shot an angry look at Merle, who had finally set the baggie back down.

"Here," he mumbled, dropping tablets into Daryl's hand.

"What _is that?"_ Beth snapped. "Drugs ain't gonna help."

"It's Tylenol," Merle snapped back.

Daryl nodded thankfully and dry swallowed the pills. The shooting nerve pain was subsiding somewhat, but that left him free to realize how much the wound burned and stung. He glanced down and reckoned it was as big as the palm of his hand.

"This is my property," a stern voice came, followed by the cocking of a shotgun.

Merle reached for his pistol, but Beth raised her hand. "Daddy, thank God."


	19. Blood

"Daddy," Beth exclaimed, running toward the man in a button down shirt and suspenders.

His steely gaze fell upon Merle and then Daryl before the corners of his eyes crinkled as he looked at his youngest daughter. Without a word, he pulled her in for a hug.

"Daddy," Beth said, pulling away and gently pushing the white-haired man toward the pickup. "I'm okay. Daryl needs help. His leg – the motorcycle pinned him and burned him and it's bad."

"Beth!" Maggie exclaimed as she ran up the drive. "I knew you'd be able to get home." She threw her arms around her sister and squeezed her until Beth groaned. "We were so worried. Daddy kept saying you'd show up and that he had faith."

"You didn't?" Beth asked in surprise.

"I just hoped you'd met back up with these two," Maggie replied. Her face grew solemn as she saw the blood in the pickup. "Oh, no." Her fingers brushed against her lips as she then looked to Daryl.

"Name's Hershel Greene," the old man said as he set his bag of supplies on the pickup next to the wounded man. "I've heard enough about you from Maggie. She seemed to think you were taking care of my little girl."

Daryl grunted a reply.

"Where's Mom? Otis and Patricia?" Beth asked.

Maggie cleared her throat and looked at the ground. "Um. They stayed behind. Daddy helped Mrs. LaFleur deliver her twins. They're fine and she's fine, but Patricia wanted to stay to make sure," Maggie explained. "Two boys. Chad and Cody."

Beth nodded but had already forgotten the names. "Daddy, what do you need?"

"We need to get him out of this truck and inside," Hershel said matter-of-factly. "Hardly a sterile place to render aid."

Daryl sat up and meant to swing his legs down to the ground, but Hershel gave him a rough shove. "I didn't say to _walk,_ " he scoffed. Motioning to Merle, he continued, "You, give me a hand, would you? We don't have a stretcher so we'll have to carry him."

Beth's breath caught in her chest as she watched the color drain further from Daryl's face. "Daddy-"

"I see him," Hershel answered. "He'll be fine, Beth. Just lost a few pints of blood, maybe. The nerve's exposed along with bone that's never felt the touch of oxygen. Pain can be a lot. I'm surprised this man is conscious."

Merle helped Hershel pull Daryl out of the truck and hoist him into the house. "We're living in the damn apocalypse and your own bike takes you out, huh?" he grunted. When no one laughed, he cleared his throat.

"Maggie, help Beth unload the truck," Hershel called over his shoulder.

"No, I want to be-" Beth started as she followed them into the house.

"Might be better if you stay outside, Barbie," Merle said as he set Daryl down on a bed in the guest room. Daryl let out an anguished groan and Merle winced. "Ain' gonna be pretty, whatever the doc here does."

"C'mon, Bethy," Maggie said, physically pulling Beth back outside. "Daddy will take care of him." When they were outside at the truck, Maggie quickly moved to clean the blood from the truck. "What kept you? It's been a week since this all started."

"I had to stay and work," Beth said. _Work._ It seemed like so long ago since work had been something to worry about. "Then we got a little hung up."

"What's that mean? What happened?" Maggie looked Beth over. "Ya'll are so dirty."

"We camped. Couldn't get through on the roads."

"In the storms?" Maggie exclaimed. "You had to have run into some of the sick ones. What did you do? How did you get away from them?"

Beth's stomach flipped as her sister swept the pool of cold blood onto the dirt. "There's only one thing you can do, Mag. You just put them down and keep going."

Maggie stopped wiping the blood up and stared at the rag in her hands. "Put them down?" Her eyes flashed and she glared at the blonde. "What do you mean _put them down_?"

"Put them down. Get rid of them. I don't know. They ain't sick. They're-"

A loud shout from the house drew the sisters' attention.

Beth's hand flew to her lips and she began chewing at her nails nervously. She debated going inside, but knew that there was nothing she could do but get in the way. "Has everything been okay here?" Beth asked to diffuse the situation and to block out the sound of the yelling.

Maggie nodded. "TV's been off the air for a few days." With a nervous laugh, she turned to the bags and wrinkled her nose. "These are soaked. And they smell."

"I'll wash them." Beth carefully stepped around the blood and headed back for the house. "You have electricity? The generator works? No one's sick or bit?"

"Beth," Maggie called, "don't go in there." She strode up the porch steps behind her sister and caught her arm. Maggie gave her the same steely look their father so often wore. "He'll have Daryl sedated and resting and that fool isn't going to shut his eyes if you're around."

Beth gave a small smile. "You think so?"

* * *

"The leg will take some time to heal," Hershel said slowly later that evening. He'd relieved Beth from her post at Daryl's bedside. She'd put up a fight to stay, but conceded that she should get in a good meal. Merle, however, refused to move. He sat sullenly in the corner of the room, staring at his boots.

Daryl heaved a dramatic sigh and turned his head so that he was staring at the wall. "Got it." Hershel had given him something that knocked him out for the rest of the afternoon and well into the evening. Judging by the last rays of sun on the wall, he figured it was around nine o'clock. He still felt groggy, but the pain brought him back enough to be irritated.

The work Hershel could perform on Daryl's mangled leg had been limited. He cleaned it and slathered on antibiotic cream. "Keep that dressing on three days. We'll keep the bone covered with Vaseline with daily bandage changes after that. As much as you might want to let it breathe, remember that the nerves only hurt when they're exposed to the air. The Vaseline will keep the bone moist so it won't dry out and get brittle. I imagine a man like you wouldn't take kindly to being weak, especially in this new world." Hershel sat back and sighed. "It's a good thing you were in the area. This isn't a wound you want out in the elements."

"Thanks," Daryl grumbled.

"I should say thank _you_ for taking care of Beth and bringing her home," Hershel said as he sat at the foot of the bed. "I reckon you're one of the family now. You too, Merle."

Merle looked up and gave a short nod. "It ain' me. Prince Charming here couldn't be bothered to do a damn thing until he had your girl in his sight."

"I thank you, Daryl." Hershel stood and nodded. "We'll bring in food and whatever you want for the time being. Holler if there's anything you need."

Daryl gave a single nod. "Thanks." When Hershel had gone, he turned to his brother. "What're you doing here? Go eat somethin'." He sighed and propped himself up. "Shit." His leg was heavily bandaged and propped up on a pile of pillows. "This is stupid."

"You're tellin' me. You didn' look so good there for a while." Merle stood and stretched his legs. "You ain' gonna be able to move for damn near a month, sounds like." He rubbed his stubble and sucked his teeth.

"You got somewhere to be?" Daryl snapped. "Where you gonna go? I thought this was the plan. They got electricity. Wells. Extra rooms. You ain' gonna do better out there."

"What'm I spos'ed to to while you're laid up in here? I might be older than you, but I sure as hell don't have anything in common with Ol' Man Greene." Merle plopped back down in his chair and kicked his feet up.

"It's a farm. They need farmhands. Ain' nothin' we ain' done before." Daryl's eyes grew heavy, but he fought to stay awake. "I'll be up quick. Don' do nothin' stupid before then."

"Hope so," Merle muttered as Daryl's eyes closed and his breaths became slow and deep. "I'm the wrong kind of man to stay with these goody two-shoes folks. I can't live under some Papa Bear. You know that." With his head resting against the wall, Merle pondered how long this outbreak could last and whether he'd shut off the water into the house back home.

* * *

"That's a tough young man," Hershel announced as he sat down with his daughters at the kitchen table.

Beth smiled. "He awake?"

"Not anymore. He needs the rest, so don't go bothering him," Hershel replied in a scolding voice.

Beth laughed and offered the bowl of popcorn to him. "Want some?"

"I said to eat something worthwhile," Hershel frowned.

"It ain't like I've been starving on the road for weeks, Daddy," Beth replied. "I've been cookin'." She took a drink from her pop can then asked, "When do you think Mom, Otis, and Patricia will come home?"

Hershel and Maggie exchanged looks, making Beth suspicious. "What?" she asked.

"Otis and Patricia will be home soon enough," Hershel said.

"Mom? Is she staying behind to help with the baby? It isn't Mrs. LaFleur's first delivery. She knows how to handle newborns." Beth sat up straighter in her chair. "Is something _wrong_? What is it?"

"I'm sorry. I couldn't," Maggie said, abruptly standing and leaving the table.

Beth stared after her and couldn't bare to look back to her father. Maggie had always been strong the one. Seeing her intense reaction terrified Beth. A silence fell between them and only broke when Beth finally spoke up. "Tell me what happened to Mom."

"Your mother got sick."

A million thoughts passed through Beth's mind, but each was worse than the one before. "Mom?" she whispered. _Maybe I heard wrong,_ she hoped.

"I'm sorry, Beth. We couldn't get a hold of you, and there were more pressing matters with Daryl's leg when you got here. Otherwise I'd have told you first thing." Hershel sighed. "It happened after things in the cities got bad. The hospitals were overrun. I did what I could for her."

"Was- was it," Beth stuttered, "peaceful?"

Hershel pursed his lips, then nodded. "She put up a good fight. Remember that. Your mother is a fighter."

Beth blinked away tears and excused herself from the table. First the outbreak, then the attack in the woods, Daryl's leg, and now her mom. Stumbling up the stairs, she ignored Maggie's calls. She wanted to be safe in her old bed when the shock set in.


	20. Ashes, Ashes, We All Fall Down

"What's her problem?" Merle growled to Maggie in the yard the next morning. He nodded his head toward Beth, who was sitting on the porch in silence. Her knees were curled up under her chin and she was staring into the sky. "She can't be bothered to get off her skinny ass and help us with this?" The duo was repairing a fence at Hershel's bequest. While it wasn't yet ten o'clock, the Georgia sun was beating down mercilessly.

"Ah, our mom got sick when this all started," Maggie said softly. "Daddy just told her last night." She wiped sweat from her brow and reached for another nail. "I couldn't bring myself to tell her. She comes in with Daryl's leg all opened up? She was already worried enough without that bombshell." Maggie drove the nail into the board with fury.

Merle frowned. _And she don't know Barbie damn near got herself raped._ "I'm sorry to hear that. You girls close to her?"

Maggie nodded. "Yeah. They were." She stood back and examined her work. "Looks good, huh?" The sensitive subject clearly bothered her. After giving a nail a few more smacks with the hammer, she nodded. "I think this is even better than it was before. You ain't bad help, Merle."

"We-hell," he exclaimed. "Lookie who's warmin' up to old Merle. What else on the list?" He liked Maggie and had a hard time believing she and Beth were raised by the same parents. They were nothing alike. He thought for a moment and realized he and Daryl had their distinct differences, too.

"Ah, I don't know," Maggie sighed. "Sorry. I'm worried about her. Beth gets distant. That's how she deals with stuff. Don't worry if she sort of falls off the radar and locks herself away. It's just hard because whatever you think you can offer her, she don't want it." She sighed and leaned on the fence post.

"Know whatcha mean. Sounds like Daryl," Merle grumbled. He cracked his neck and stuffed the tools into his tool belt borrowed from the old man. "You figure out the next job and I'll go see what I can't do to raise troop morale. You just give me a holler when you got our next job, all righ'? Don' go runnin' off and recruitin' another man. I know I'm good lookin', but don' let that intimidate you."

Maggie snorted. "Yeah. I'll let you know."

Merle smirked and turned toward the porch. "Hey, Barbie," he called as he strolled toward the youngest Greene.

Beth's eyes flicked to him but she didn't greet him.

"Heard about your mom. That's real shitty. Seems like bad luck just keeps followin' you, huh?" He sat down in a wicker chair next to her. After a moment, he nodded. "This is a nice place. Glad you were so intent on gettin' here. Now don't get me wrong, I love campin', but it's a nice set-up we've got goin'. Beds, food, hell, your sister's got a nice set of knockers, huh?"

"Mmhmm."

Merle frowned. "You even listenin'? Back in the day you'd have socked me for that one." He rubbed his head and squeezed his eyes shut. _Since when did I turn into camp counselor? "_ You been in to see Daryl?"

Beth gave her head a slight shake. She sighed and looked away, hoping Merle would get the hint and leave. That was currently her favorite thing about Daryl: he was okay with sitting in silence together and not needing to fill the quiet with small talk. Processing her mother's death was hard. Thoughts and emotions jumbled together in her head and nothing made sense. What she had desperately hoped for – an unchanged farm – hadn't come to be true. Hope had fizzled out within her and Beth was wondering how to carry on.

"Listen here, you can't go mopin' around. We need a _guide_ aroun' here. Your sis? Hot. She's great. She's good. But she ain' runnin' the show. I don't know your old man and the farm hands, whenever the hell they get here." Merle crossed his arms over his chest. "With Daryl laid up, and no TV, there's not much goin' on here. I didn' bring no books." He cracked another grin, then scowled when Beth's expression didn't change. "Fine. Have it your way. Pout here and let me do all the work." He stood and lingered for a moment before slapping the porch railing and stalking off to find Maggie. " _Knew_ this would turn into a damn soap opera with a chick around."

Beth turned her head and granted him a response, though her tongue felt like lead in her mouth. "My mom just died, dick."

Merle spun around and raised an eyebrow. "At least now we know the cat didn't get your tongue. Jesus."

* * *

"Well, young man, how's the leg today?"

Daryl rolled back over. He'd wolfed down the breakfast of eggs and toast that Maggie had brought him, but he was confused and annoyed as to why he hadn't seen Beth. "'s fine."

Hershel stepped into the room. "Might I take a look?"

Shrugging, Daryl mumbled, "You're the doc."

"I'm surprised my daughter hasn't been in here." Hershel sat at the foot of the bed and peeled back the dressing. "Hmm."

"Me too, beings she's the reason we're here," Daryl muttered as he winced. "Can I walk yet?"

Hershel chuckled. "No, you had most of the flesh burned or ripped off just yesterday. Give it more than 24 hours." After a quick exam, he nodded. "I like how that's looking." He glanced up. "Why are you so anxious to be up and about?"

"Need to pitch in, earn our keep. Merle ain' exactly a picnic. Beth can't do much in the way of handiwork. Guessin' that's why you got farm hands." He sighed. "If you'll have us, I guess. Beth said-"

"There's not much space, but you're certainly welcome to it," Hershel said, patting Daryl on the shoulder. "I told you that you're family now since you returned Beth to us. We both know she'd still be stuck in her house with that damn dog if you hadn't scooped her up. The girl's bright, but maybe we shouldn't have done so much for her growing up."

Daryl grinned. "Yeah. Probably. Damn dog ran off and she almost got herself killed more than once over him." The smile faded quickly as he imagined her hugging Yoshi. _Where was she?_

"Beth does love her animals," Hershel said. "Well, that reminds me. I should go see how Merle and Maggie are coming with that cattle fence. Those two seem like dynamite working together. They'll either be fiercely productive, or blow up my farm."

"Uh-huh," Daryl nodded as Hershel walked out. He huffed and let his head fall back to the pillow. He'd only been awake for a few hours, but the leg wound seemed to zap his energy reserve. His eyes fell shut and he slept.

A cry and a bang woke him an hour later. "Huh?" He mumbled as he jerked awake and rubbed his eyes. He leaned closer to the door and strained to listen. _Beth? Maggie? Hostiles?_ _Need crossbow?_ A muffled scream and choked sob echoed down the hall, Daryl sat up. "Beth?" he called. When the muffled squeals continued, he swung his legs over the side of the bed. The instant his foot touched the floor, his injured leg sent jolts of nerve pain up into his hip. " _Sonofamotherfucker, damn it!"_ Daryl leaned over and heaved in response to the agony. A thud from down the hall urged him to carry on.

"Come on, c'mon," Daryl muttered to himself as he searched the room for something he could use as a crutch. When nothing presented itself, he braced for the pain and took his first step toward the door.

* * *

The metal storage bin was on the top shelf of her closet. Beth spotted it and felt both dread and relief. The blue bin, something she'd recycled when it was no longer needed on the farm, was labeled "Pictures." She thought reliving old memories including her mother would be a step in the right direction toward healing.

Standing on her tip toes, Beth reached for the tub. It slid back away from her fingers at first, but eventually she got a grip and pulled it down toward her. The metal was slippery and clumsy. Beth bit her lip as the weight tipped toward her unexpectedly as the pictures inside shifted. In an instant, the entire tub came crashing down, slowing only slightly when it hit Beth's torso. A soft cry popped from her mouth as a sting lit up her arm. The tub crashed onto the floor, spilling loose photographs across the hardwood.

Annoyance simmered for a moment before giving way to panic. Beth knelt to pick up the pictures, but screamed when blood drops rained down onto them from her arm. The container's corner had caught her arm and sliced her from wrist to elbow. "No, no!" she cried aloud as she swung her arm away from the pictures. She pressed it down into her mattress to stop the bleeding, and with her free hand, Beth grabbed the bloody pictures and wiped them off on her jeans. "No. No. Not Mommy." Tears flooded her eyes and sobs bubbled up out of nowhere. "Please, no! This is all I have," she pleaded to no one in general. After a few wipes against the denim, a picture of Beth and her mom at her 13th birthday celebration was clean again. Her mother's happy face beamed up at her, but it gave Beth no comfort.

"Why, why?" Beth wept as she lunged for a picture of her mother in the kitchen at Thanksgiving. The blood wicked off quickly. When she was satisfied that she'd only bled on a few other pictures, Beth took a deep breath. "They're fine, they're okay, they're here," she tried to reassure herself through her tears.

The pain in her arm nagged. Beth lifted her arm from the mattress and examined it. Blood was flowing freely. The soaked quilt made her stomach churn. Beth stood to find a bandage, but the room began to spin.

* * *

"Hey, _hey?"_ Daryl called down the stairs as he half-dragged his leg down the hall. "Anyone here? Hey!"

He grunted and braced himself against the wall as he made his way toward what he assumed was Beth's room. The commotion had stopped. Whether that was a good or a bad thing, he couldn't tell. His crossbow was nowhere to be found – probably still out in the truck – but he still had his knife on his belt. He was in no shape to take on a hostile, but he had to try.

"Beth?" he hissed. "Beth!" He groaned and stood on one leg. The pain was blinding but he pushed through. Thoughts of a hostile with its hands and teeth at Beth's throat flashed through his mind. Daryl pushed forward.

The door was open when he reached it. "Beth!" he cried, half in exasperation and half in pain. He collapsed onto the floor next to her and squeezed his eyes shut. _Can't get a break._


	21. Catching Up

Merle looked up from the firewood he and Maggie were chopping to store for winter. "You hear that?"

Maggie paused and squinted as she listened. "I don' hear nothin'."

"Thought I heard somethin' from the house," Merle said, sucking his teeth and wiping sweat from his brow. "Might pop in just to see what's goin' on." He leaned the axe against the pile of wood and strode toward the house.

"I'll come, too, I guess," Maggie said. "I need a drink."

"Hell, girl, I can hook you up."

"Water," Maggie replied with a giggle.

"That ain' hardly no fun."

* * *

"Beth. _Beth!"  
_  
Beth came to and blinked her eyes open slowly. "What-?" A wave of nausea rushed over her and she turned and vomited on the floor. "What's happening?" she asked in fright.

"That's what I'd like to know," Daryl muttered. He was sitting with his back against the bed, his legs outstretched. His wound oozed from being disturbed, but he tried to pay it no mind. "You tryin' to kill yourself?" he spat. He'd been holding pressure to her bleeding arm for a few minutes. "After all the shit we went through to get you here?"

"No," Beth answered earnestly. "I was just getting down pictures, then it cut me. I had to clean the pictures, though."

"Well that was fuckin' stupid," Daryl growled. "You could have died." He glared at her, ignoring her pitiful puppy dog eyes. He'd been bending over backward for her since day one and he wasn't certain whether it was worth it. They were supposed to be safe but here he was, _still_ babysitting her. Some days their difference in age was obvious. This was one of them.

"It's just a cut," Beth mumbled. She made to stand, but felt lightheaded and slumped back down against the bed.

"I been callin' for someone for damn near five minutes," Daryl sighed. He groaned and gritted his teeth as he got to his feet. Pain shot up his leg, but he puffed breaths through his mouth and was upright. "C'mon. Get in the bed, at least," he panted, reaching down to Beth's good arm. "Get up. C'mon." It didn't seem right leaving her to fend for herself, but something felt wrong about being in her light pink bedroom in her father's house.

She nodded and pulled herself into the bed. Warmth rushed to her face and she felt her stomach churn again.

"Don't-" Daryl groaned, but Beth was getting sick over the side of the bed. He inhaled sharply and did everything in his power not to berate her.

"The hell's goin' on here?" Merle's sharp voice came as he stomped up the stairs. "What's with the screamin'?"

"Asshole," Daryl called. " _Now_ you come to check on things?"

" _Hershel! Hershel!"_ voices came from the yard.

"This place ever been normal? Seem things been goin' to shit the second we got here," Merle snapped. He poked his head in the room. "Ya'll under control?"

" _Merle! Get down here!"_ Maggie called.

"Jesus," Merle growled.

"Help me get her bandaged up," Daryl said.

"I'll do it," Merele snapped. "Get up off the floor."

" _Merle!"_ Maggie's cry came again. "Help! He's been shot!"

The Dixons exchanged glances.

"Who was shot? Daddy?" Beth breathed, her eyes rolling back in her head as she fainted again.

"Oh, come on!" Merle snarled. "Stay here. I'll be back." He took off down the stairs. "Who get shot?" he called as he saw Maggie.

"Otis shot a boy," Maggie gasped. "Help me clean out a room. Daddy's going to do surgery to get the bullet out. Those people are with the boy, and they're bringing more."

* * *

That was the start of their new family. A group of survivors joined the Greene/Dixon clan: a man, his pregnant wife and boy, another woman recently widowed and made childless, a young man Maggie had taken to, and a few others.

They all lived on the farm in what seemed to be peace, but that lasted only a few months before walkers overran the entire acreage. Daryl and Merle had been skeptical of the others at first, but now trusted them as family. Maggie had married a man named Glenn. Beth grew more independent while Daryl grew softer – slightly. Above all, it became clear that the world would never revert back to a walker-free state.

When the group was forced away from the farm, they found a prison to live in. Things had seemed better, but they weren't. The pregnant woman died in birth, Hershel had been murdered by invaders, and any innocence left in the group was lost. Following a destructive seige, the group had hit the road once again, searching for somewhere to call home at last.

"This is some bullshit, that's all that is," Merle grumbled as the group crept around the perimeter of a seemingly untouched house. "That's a trap right there. Ain' nobody gettin' in and outta there with all them digits remaining." He hoisted his pack. "I'm huntin'."

"Not with that gun you're not," a man and former sheriff named Rick growled. "We're stayin'."

Beth glanced at Daryl, who was scanning the house. "What do you think?" she whispered.

Daryl turned and shook his head. "I think it'd be nice to find a fuckin' place to stay for once." He studied her pained, gaunt face and vowed to find somewhere to stay put.

 **A/N: Hi, friends! Sorry for my absense- summer is a busy time for me, and I got caught up in some other fics. We'll catch back up with Bethyl shortly. (:**


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